When Fates Collided
by G.G. Jellyfish
Summary: A few years after the end of the Second War, two separate lives cross, and the collision results in chaos. A story of letters and lies, fate and friendship.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter is not ours because there's two of us and only one J.K. Rowling so obviously we can't both be her. In fact, neither one of us is, which is why we're writing this useless disclaimer to begin with. Thank you and have a nice day.**

**(A/N: The only events out of the Harry Potter books that happened in this particular AU were up through the fifth book.)**

_**Prologue**_

_Hogwarts_ _School of Witchcraft and Wizardry Memorial Site_

A newspaper fluttered in the breeze, caught in the slightly rusted metal gate of the cemetary. On further inspection, Harry Potter noted it was as old as the graveyard itself, brown and cracked with age, its heavy black print barely readable. _YOU-KNOW-WHO DEFEATED FOR THE LAST TIME; HARRY POTTER TRIUMPHS_. He gave it only a cursory glance before crumpling it in his fist and tossing it into the garbage bin. He'd read the article a thousand times before, and had finally concluded that it was all a load of waffle. _The Order of the Phoenix defeated the Dark Lord…dark and light powers came head to head in an epic battle worthy of true legend… Harry Potter, though only fifteen years old, embraced his title as the Chosen One fated to cull evil from the wizarding world… Potter has finally fulfilled his destiny and the wizarding world celebrates his heroic endeavor with him_…

The text blurred in front of his eyes. The graveyard was suddenly too warm and too bright, and everything was moving too fast and Harry couldn't focus. He would have given anything at that moment to be able to just go back up to Gryffindor Tower and curl up under his bed and sleep. Stone memorials faded into the corpses of his memory and he thought somebody screamed behind him. His eyes darted over the devastation of the battlefield around him, his brain unable to comprehend the surreal scene, knowing that against Voldemort, he may as well have been that same helpless infant back at Godric's Hollow seventeen years ago.

And suddenly his enemy materialized before him, just as he had so long ago. Green eyes met red ones, and then Voldemort raised his wand. Harry pulled out his own.

The ground beneath him jolted, sending both Voldemort and Harry to the ground. It took Harry a long minute to realize that it wasn't death that tripped him, but an actual tremor in the earth. He gasped, trying to catch his balance as the world shook again.

"HARRY!" someone was yelling behind him, and Harry twisted from his position to see the stones of Hogwarts, a place that had always been as solid and comfortingly unmovable as the mountains themselves, falling to the ground. It hung there, suspended in midair for only a moment before the enitre castle collapsed on itself.

No.

No.

That was impossible.

Hogwarts couldn't just... couldn't just die like that.

Harry blinked in stunned disbelief. Hogwarts had stood for... _centuries._ For it to collapse was the equivalent of watching the entirety of England sink into the Atlantic. It wasn't supposed to happen like that... it _couldn't_ happen. It wasn't happening now.

And as rubble and dust sprayed Harry Potter's face, the last tears he would cry for years streamed down his cheeks and soaked into the bloody rags of his robes.

Of course, Harry knew now that his emotions had been ridiculous. Without the loss of Hogwarts, Voldemort would have been invulnerable. The collapse of the castle had opened his enemy's one weakness. It had to happen. Hogwarts was just another sacrifice of the war, and should not have merited tears when so many of his breathing friends and allies had given their lives for the cause.

And as he always did, Harry Potter took a deep breath and soldiered on.

He swung open the creaky gate. He'd been at the cemetery so many times his path had been worn into the grass—not that he needed it to know where he was going. He walked mechanically to the first grave, front and center, just as he had asked for.

_**Ron Weasley**_

_**1989-2006**_

_**Died bravely fighting in the Second War**_

_**His sacrifice will always be remembered.**_

Harry stared at the crumbling stone grave as he reached into his pocket. The cemetery was well cared for, he made sure of that, but nothing could stop the passage of time from taking its toll. His fingers closed around a slim piece of newspaper and he took it out, setting it against Ron's gravestone.

"Chudley Cannons go to the World Cup," he read aloud. "You knew they'd make it some day."

The paper fluttered slightly in the breeze as Harry looked back sadly at the grave for a moment, murmuring, "Thank you, Ron. I... I owe you so much. You shouldn't have... the Curse was meant for me." He drew a shaky breath. "You gave your life for mine, Ron. So thank you. I hope I... I tried to make it..." Harry looked away, unable to continue. "Thank you," he murmured again before continuing on his set course to the next grave.

_**Albus Dumbledore**_

_**1881-2006**_

_**One of the greatest headmasters of Hogwarts**_

_**Had his name and picture on a Chocolate Frog card**_

Harry smiled slightly as he read the epitaph again, running a slightly shaking hand through his hair. He had no words to describe what he wanted to say to Albus Dumbledore, his teacher, his mentor, and his friend. After a minute, he walked away, staring down at his worn shoes.

At the end of his path was the monument itself. His eyes scanned the miniature castle, noting the perfection of the stone replication. It was Hogwarts at its height. Harry half expected to see a small Dumbledore come walking out the doors or for students to be passing through the halls, but the sculpture was still and alone. His eyes found the gold plaque as the early morning sunlight glanced off it.

_Under the great Headmaster Albus Dumbledore's leadership, the Order of the Phoenix and the student organization Dumbledore's Army met Voldemort's forces here in the final battle of the Second War.__Although the Light side won the battle and the war, it came with a tragic price.__Most of the Order was killed in this terrible battle, namely Albus Dumbledore, Minerva McGonagall, Rubeus Hagrid, Nymphadora Tonks, Remus Lupin, Alastor Moody, Bill Weasley, Arthur Weasley, and Ronald Weasley._

_The war would not have been won without the contributions of Draco Malfoy and Severus Snape, who both died as Death Eaters but will always be remembered as supporters of the Light.__Their efforts were critical to the death of Voldemort. _

_Countless other innocents who aided the Light war effort were tragically killed. While their names are unlisted here, they shall never be forgotten._

_May those who bravely gave their lives for the cause of the Light rest in peace._

*\\\ \\\ \\\ \\\*

**So, um… read and review!**

Glowfish36

~Signing off~

**greenjelly signing off too. Lowercase first letter is intentional.**


	2. 1: The Beginning

**Chapter One: The Beginning**

_**September 3**_

* * *

Stephanie slammed her Charms textbook shut with a dramatic _BANG_ and proceeded to dump it off the edge of her desk. It crashed into the floor, causing tremblings in the floor that shook her chair and caused several papers to slide off her desk.

"Are you going to do that every day?" her best friend Jelly Summers demanded from the desk next to hers. "Because if you are, it's going to be a very, very, very long school year."

Stephanie smiled with mock sweetness. "I could make it even longer," she offered.

"Stop talking while you're ahead, Jelly," Élise Rousseau advised, not looking up from her Potions essay.

Stephanie had to tip her chair back to see her other best friend, whose desk was on the other side of Jelly's. The three of them had identical wooden desks lined up in a row in front of their dorm window. It was an especially nice suite, as they had stayed in the same building for nine years now. Their seniority had earned them windows that didn't need duct tape to keep from crumbling and even sported a mini kitchen with a nearly rustless sink.

"Don't you have something else to do?" Jelly asked. "Something that doesn't involve your foot blocking my desk drawers?"

"Eh?" Stephanie glanced down and saw that she had braced her foot against Jelly's desk to keep her chair balanced in its tipped position. "Oh, sorry." She let herself fall forward, the chair legs thumping on the ground. She mentally went through her first-day-back-to-school homework. _Potions essay complete, just finished Charms review… ugh, still have to do that stupid letter_. As part of a 'Broadening Horizons' project, the History of Magic teacher had given them an assignment that she had described as "a wonderful opportunity for young indivduals like yourselves to learn of life in other worlds through the dying medium of written correspondence." Stephanie thought it was a waste of time, but it was an even bigger waste of time to argue with Professor Sinistra when she got excited about one of her brilliant ideas. It was faster and easier just to humor her until she forgot about it, which usually didn't take long, as Professor Sinistra had a brilliant idea every other week or so. Stephanie sighed, massaged a cramp out of her hand, and picked up her pen again.

**Hi**_**,**_ she wrote, and had to check her notebook for her new pen pal's name before continuing.

**Hi, Imilia. My name is Stephanie and I am**

Stephanie stared at the parchment blankly. _Write half a scroll_, Professor Sinistra had said. _It won't take much time at all_, the professor had reassured the class. _Just talk about yourself naturally; it's easy_, she had told them.

Professor Sinistra was very obviously full of bu—

She caught herself. Her start-of-term goals included a) not to talk back to teachers, b) to eat more vegetables and fewer cookies, c) to blow things up less than once a week, d) to avoid blood and bloody things at all costs, thus preventing repeats of the accident she'd been involved with last year, and e) to substitute appropriate language for profanity and rude gestures. It had been exactly thirty-nine minutes since she'd written those goals down. She had hoped to keep them at least until the end of the night.

**My name is Stephanie and I am sixteen years old**.

It was boring, but she had to start somewhere.

**Prof. Sinistra says we're supposed to write about ourselves, but I have no idea what to say. I guess I'll just tell you what I look like.**

Stephanie was stalling, trying to fill up the parchment, and she knew it. She hated the redundancy of her letter—good writers didn't state what they were about to say before they said it—but most good writers didn't have a set length they had to reach, either.

She put writing technique out of her mind and twisted in her seat so she could look in the mirror that Élise kept on the wall next to the door. A very plain, average, blend-into-the-crowd girl looked back. Stephanie resisted the urge to say that she looked "fat, ugly, and otherwisely unpleasant." That usually just ended up sounding like fishing for compliments.

**I'm kind of small and rather slender—I guess I have a normal body type for my age, not counting the lack of height. Sometimes I think I look really pretty, but then one glance at my friend Élise and I realize… yeah, not so much. I have dark hair and blue-green eyes that are much more blue than they are green. On a non-physical note, I have the sense of humor of a complete nutjob and the grace of a Jello jiggler. A squashed Jello jiggler. Squashed Jello jigglers don't even really move. They just sort of… blob.**

_That doesn't make any sense_, Stephanie realized after she'd finished writing it. _It sounds a lot like rambling, probably because it _is_ rambling, but then, if I don't ramble, I'll never actually get a half scroll of parchment written down. So… I ramble._

_Like I'm doing now._

"Blaaaaaaaa," Stephanie eloquently expressed her frustration as she pushed the parchment away. She had only filled a quarter of the parchment. _I need to write larger next time,_ she decided. She twirled her pen aimlessly around her thumb a few times, trying to relieve stress.

"Hey, Élise?" she tipped her chair back again, careful not to kick Jelly's desk.

"_Oui, mon amie_?" Élise's French carried a decidedly British accent.

"What did you write about in your half parchment besides your name and what you look like?"

"Perfume," Élise said.

"Perfume?"

"And turtles."

Perfume and turtles. Well, _that_ was helpful.

"Jelllllllyyyyyy," Stephanie wheedled.

"Talk about Quidditch," Jelly said. "Everyone likes Quidditch."

"Thank you, _Jelly_."

"My pleasure," Élise said before Jelly could reply.

**I play Chaser on the local Quidditch team with a lot of my really good friends and some people who I wish would fall off the face of the Earth, except for then we'd been down some good players on the team.**

"Jelly, that reminds me, are we getting any new players this year?" Stephanie paused to glance at her friend.

"I don't think so," Jelly tapped her pen against her chin thoughtfully. "Albondigas and Lea are both still here, and they'll obviously still want to play, and I can't see Selene giving up the opportunity to captain another year, so obviously Ethan comes with her… and if Andrew tries to get out of playing, Selene will throw a fit, and I don't think he'll want to risk her wrath."

"She's not that horrible," Élise said. "Selene can just be a little… intense, sometimes."

Jelly and Stephanie glanced at each other and quickly turned back to their homework, trying to avoid laughing out loud. Élise had never been to any of their Quidditch practices. She'd never experienced the rage of a disrespected Selene Parker.

**In any case, we're playing a few scrimmage games in September and October, and our first big tournament is on Halloween. I'd invite you to come watch, but I don't know you, and it would be awful if you turned out to be some sort of crazy psychopath killer. I wouldn't want to be responsible for the brutal massacre of all the spectators who got better seats than you. If you were a crazy psychopath killer. Which you're probably not. I hope.**

"Hey, Stephie?"

"If you keep calling me Stephie, I'll start conveinently forgetting the accent in your name," Stephanie was only too happy to drop her pen and balance on the back two legs of her chair again. "What's up?"

"What do I hope to achieve in Poisonous Potions and Deadly Draughts 2.0?" Élise asked, naming the course she had chosen for her Potions requirement.

Stephanie took a moment to think. "You want to know how to elegantly assassinate the royal family of Czechslovakia? Or maybe you want to know how to make a concotion that, when applied to the lips, will murder the next boy you kiss but leave you untouched? A slow acting poison for use in torture and coercion when the enemy refuses to give you the answer to number sixteen on the History of Magic exam?"

"Don't ask Stephanie for help on your personal goals, Élise," Jelly reached out and pushed Stephanie's chair down to sit on all four legs again. "She'll make sure you come off as insane."

"Don't ask Jelly for help on your personal goals, Élise," Stephanie imitated her friend. "She'll make sure you are secure in your reputation as the most boring student in the class."

"How dare you accuse me of being _boring_!" Jelly stood up, her chair flying out from under her, her attempted fury ruined by the laughter that she was barely able to restrain.

"You called me insane first!" Stephanie stood up as well, trying and failing to eliminate the height difference between them.

"That's because you _are_ insane!"

Stephanie sniffed. "True genius is always perceived as insanity by you lesser beings." She only managed to take one pompous step away before Jelly poked her in the stomach, causing her to squeal in a most undignified fashion. "Oi!" She managed two retaliating pokes before Élise joined the fray, and somehow they all ended up collapsed on the sofa, laughing crazily, homework abandoned on their respective desks.

_I'm not going to interrupt this for something as stupid as school_, Stephanie thought. _I'll rewrite a better letter later. Maybe. If I have time._ She reached over and poked Élise again.

* * *

Imilia lay sideways on a dark blue sofa, her head hanging over the edge. She laughed as she looked at the world upside down. Imilia pushed her body into an awkward backbend and slowly kicked over, landing straight up and perfectly relaxed, though her face was tinted red. Her bright pink blanket slipped off her 'sofa bed' and she reached down to pull it back up.

With a quick glance at the magical clock blinking on the wall, Imilia sighed and made her way to the very simple table in the right corner of the room. She pulled a chair to the table and sat down. The chair squeaked noisly as Imilia pulled a parchment scroll from the pile and picked up on of her pencils.

Imilia's only assignment left for homework was to write a letter to another student in the world. She placed the tip of her pencil on the clean scroll and began.

**Hello**

Imilia sat back and quickly checked her assignment notebook for her pen pal's name. She sighed, then turned back to the letter.

**Hello Stephanie,**

**My name is Imilia.**

Imilia bit her lip, wondering if using short sentences would take up half a page. She tossed her pencil above her head and caught it lazily. The wind outside her dorm gently slipped past the window as she placed her left hand gently over the rim of an empty glass and continued writing hesitantly.

**I am fifteen years old. I go to a school for wizards, obviously, but I don't think I'm allowed to tell you where it is because I don't know you. I have very long blond hair that I usually keep in a ponytail when I'm at school. The next time I have some cash to spare I'm going to dye my hair brown, it's really annoying to have such bright colored hair.**

Imilia groaned, wondering what the heck she could write next. She lifted her left hand from the now filled glass of water. After taking a sip, Imilia scrunched up her nose, "Darn, it's warm. You'd think a water elemental would be able to add some ice."

She sighed and went back to writing.

**I really enjoy my potions class at school, although the teacher leaves much to be desired. I absolutely love flying. I think my favorite Quidditch position would be Seeker, but I have never bothered trying out for the school team because of pointless restrictions. My friends are few in number, but friends aren't really a priority in my life right now.**

Imilia looked up as she mumbled, "That makes me sound like I'm depressed." She leaned her feet casually on the closest leg of the table and bit her lip. "I need to say something interesting, something worthwhile. Maybe I can talk about…."

**My best friend's name is Charles William Karson. I call him Charlie. He's a really nice friend and he tutors me in some of my magic classes. **

She sighed as she desperately tried to find a little bit more to fill up the last bit of the parchment scroll.

**I don't know if you have ever heard about a man named Harry Potter, but when I was young he was always my favorite person to read about.** **Enough about me. What's your name? What sort of things do you like to do? What classes do you take? How did you get roped into writing this? Do you**

Imilia crossed the last two words out, signed the letter, and folded it twice. She got up and looked around the room. She hoped it was clean enough to keep her dormmates from complaining.

With a yawn, she grabbed a worn-out cloth bag from underneath the desk and slung it over her shoulder. Letter in hand, Imilia checked the dorm's living room one more time before she left. "One day," she muttered, "I'll have my own room."

Imilia swung the white door closed as she added, "And a proper bed."

A white piece of paper attached to the door flapped gently as she brushed by it. In big bold letters it read:

**DORM #5**

Lea Warrington

Juliette Kender

Ann Giniva

Faine Derni

Penciled on the bottom in rough, barely readable scrawl was her name:

_Imilia_

It was followed by a brief typed note that had been glued to the bottom of the page:

**Please note**: Usually, there are no more than four people per dorm, however we are making an exception for Ms. Imilia. Since there is limited space in the bedroom, a sofa has been supplied for the extra student. Thank you for your cooperation.

_**

* * *

**_

_**Later that Night…**_

"I need to speak to Lucius," Bellatrix said, without so much as a "Hello" or a "Good evening."

Narcissa barred the doorway, her long white blonde hair fluttering slightly in the night breeze. "Well, you can't tonight, as he's busy. Lovely to see you as always, Bella. Good night." She started to close the door, but Bellatrix caught the edge and forced it open again.

"If Lucius is busy, I can talk to you, Cissa," Bellatrix eased into the front room of Malfoy Manor. "We need to discuss the Malfoy heir."

"Why?" Narcissa did not move from the doorway. "Are you planning to murder me and my husband in our sleep?"

Bellatrix eyed her as she sat down on the sofa. "You're so strange lately, Cissa. Is everything all right?"

"Of course," Narcissa smiled, a quick upturning of the lips. "Shouldn't it be?"

Bellatrix sighed, brushing her dark hair out of her eyes. "There is no one to inherit your good name or fortune, Narcissa. You can't honestly tell me that doesn't trouble you. Unless, of course, you're expecting another...?"

"No. I'm not." The words were bitter on her tongue.

"Well then, the issue still stands."

"If you're hoping to receive the inheritance, Bella, this is a bad way to go about persuading us."

"I want nothing of the sort," Bellatrix stood up again. "I can see that I came at a bad time. I have another meeting in Egypt tomorrow..."

"In Egypt?" Narcissa interrupted. "Why are you going to _Egypt_, of all places?"

"Why do you think?" Bellatrix snapped. "To talk with the others without the Ministry of Magic constantly peeking over our shoulders. They say they want to protect everyone equally, wizard and Muggle alike, but they're persecuting the only witches and wizards who had the courage to speak out against..."

"I don't want to hear your sales pitch again, thank you," Narcissa cut her sister off again. "Bella, do you really think you can lead these people without... without...?"

"Who said anything about doing it without him?" Bellatrix offered the faintest hint of a smile. "I shall escort myself to the door, Cissa. We'll discuss the matter of your descendants when I next return."

"There's nothing to discuss," Narcissa returned her sister's smile. "Good night, Bella."

Only when the door had firmly shut behind Bellatrix did Narcissa retreat to the library where her husband was working. "Lucius, have you been talking to the Lestranges lately?"

"Of course not, dear," Lucius murmured, not looking up from his parchment and quills.

"Bellatrix was just here asking about our heir, of all things. What could have possibly put that idea into her head?"

"I'm sure I don't know," Lucius scratched out a line and dipped his quill in ink again. "There is no suitable heir, so there could not have been anything to ask about."

"You speak of our children as though they are house elves," Narcissa's voice went dangerously soft.

"They were a disappointment, my dear," Lucius finally put his quill down and met his wife's hard gaze. "The first one was a traitor to our noble blood. His death was the… appropriate fate. The younger was not strong, to have died so early. Neither of my children deserve the Malfoy name."

Narcissa inclined her head slightly. "You, of course, would know."

Malfoy missed the subtle insult. "That's right. I know what it means to be a Malfoy. If Dra—if my children cannot handle that, then they cannot be allowed to stain our name. That's the way it has always been and the way it will always be. I know what I owe to my heritage and to our future."

Narcissa's expression remained cool and unmoved as ever, but her hands clenched, hidden beneath the folds of her robes. "I only wish you would consult with me and not with my sister about our future, Lucius. I feel like we don't know each other anymore."

"That's ridiculous," Lucius turned back to his papers. "Get some rest, dear. I promise, when the new business pays off, it'll make up for all of this madness."

Narcissa drew in a deep breath, trying to control herself. She swallowed her acrid reply, then turned and exited the library, the heavy wooden door slamming shut behind her.

Her fingernails left small, red halfmoons in her palms.

_Please drop us a line in a review! We very much appreciate the feedback._


	3. 2: Harry Potter's Shirtless?

**Chapter Two: What? Harry Potter's Shirtless?**

Oh wait, no he's not. That's Jacob.

Ladies and gentlemen, this is an example of false advertising. This chapter has nothing to do with either Jacob's or Harry Potter's naked top half. We're saving that for later chapters.

Enjoy.

_**September 6**_

* * *

**Imilia: My life is in mortal danger. If you don't hear from me again, I want you to spread the word. Tell ****everyone**** the truth about how I met my demise and let ****no one**** suffer the same terrible fate. These people must be stopped. Even if I die, you can still save thousands—nay, ****millions**** of innocent children.**

**Are you ready for this? Are you willing to accept the responsibility for untold numbers of future lives?**

**Okay… I don't know how else to do this except to tell you straight out:**

**I'm being bored to death in Ancient Runes class.**

"That may be a bit of overkill," Jelly whispered over Stephanie's shoulder.

"You think so?" Stephanie squinted at her paper. "I kind of like the melodrama."

"Melodrama is lovely and all," Jelly said, "but you have to use it skillfully, and in tasteful quantities. The thing about innocent children is just too cloying. Fulsome."

"I don't think those words work the way you used them," Stephanie tapped her pen on her chin. "Pass me your thesaurus?"

"Didn't bring it," Jelly paused as Professor Mírez passed by their desks, "seeing as our translations of runes tend to be limited to 'cat eat dog and be friends!'"

"Seriously? That's one of the answers?" Stephanie lifted up her letter to look at her answer parchment underneath. "The only cat I translated is eating frogs and discussing faith in family."

"No way," Jelly leaned over further. "See, that's _endialé_—friendship."

Stephanie bent so the book was inches from her nose. "That's not _endialé_, that's _felora_. _Endialé_ has a bigger slash mark on the top, and there's no spot near the base."

"There _isn't_ a spot, Stephanie, you just have a bad printing," Jelly pointed to her own book, where _endialé_ was entirely spot-free.

"You've got to be kidding me," Stephanie groaned as she corrected the translation on her answer sheet.

**Ancient Runes is a most fantastic waste of time. I mean, when do you EVER use runes to do anything worthwhile? Besides, almost all the ancient texts have already been translated, and since strange librarians who hermitify themselves in the deep recesses of labyrinths of unchecked-out books are the only people who can read them, it's not like you can actually use them for communication. They don't even make a good secret code, since any decently strange, hermitified librarian can translate them. In conclusion: useless.**

**Why then, you may ask, am I wasting away my youth in the Class of Eternal Boredom and Uselessness? Simple: It was either this or Care of Magical Creatures, and I wasn't about to start shoveling dragon dung.**

By this time, the sound level in the room had escalated to the point at which Stephanie was pretty sure Professor Mírez would have to be both completely deaf in both ears to miss the lack of work pertaining to Ancient Runes. He was either truly that oblivious, or hoping that if he pretended to be, everyone would shut themselves up.

**The professor does not even attempt to feign any discipline. Every day the misbehavior slowly escalates through the lesson, until by the end you could probably set off a small bomb in the back of the room and nobody would notice. Up until that point, however, I'm obligated to at least pretend like I'm working.**

At that moment, the room went deadly silent. Stephanie glanced up and twisted in her seat to see what everyone was staring at.

Professor Mírez was towering over a desk at the back of the room. Between his thumb and index finger, he pinched a small carving made out of what looked like a block of blue salt. "What," he said, his voice low and dangerous, "is this?"

The boy who answered spoke with a distinct accent. Stephanie thought she remembered hearing various guy friends refer to him as Lucky Reisenthal. "Well, I'd'a thought it was obvious that it's in your likeness, sir."

Squinting at it, Stephanie thought the carving was actually done exceptionally well, down to the man's twitchy little beard and slightly crooked nose, but she rather doubted the art technique was what the professor objected to.

"This," Professor Mírez shoved the carving in Lucky's face, "is unacceptable. This is _dragonsalt_."

"_Déy-sel_," Lucky enunciated lowly, "is the technical term."

"You're doing DRUGS!" Mírez roared. "DRUGS in the BACK of my CLASSROOM in the MIDDLE of a LESSON."

Lucky shrugged. At least he wasn't stupid enough to deny it, Stephanie thought, then realized it was probably due more to the influence of the dragonsalt high than any actual semblance of intelligence.

"The hall monitors will take you to the headmaster," Mírez yanked the boy to his feet. "Never show your face in this room again." He shoved Lucky out the door, slamming it loudly behind him. Everyone in the classroom cringed as the impact reverberated through the room. "The rest of you," he turned back to the class. "I don't doubt that you all knew what was going on, and in any case, I've had enough of your disrespect. Since you all so obviously know _everything_ there is to know about runes, we'll have the exam now."

"WHAT??!?!?!?!" Pepper Croft screeched. Like Lucky, Stephanie doubted that was her real name, but if she had ever used a different one, Stephanie couldn't remember it. Everyone called her Pepper, even the teachers. "But that's not fair, I was working HARD, why do I have to suffer for THEIR stupidity--"

**It's starting to get windy in the classroom-- one of the air elementals is getting stressed, and I guess this is her method of relief. A few of the others are yelling, but most of us are just kicking back and resuming our conversations or doodles. I don't know if you know any air elementals, but before they're trained, they have a tendency to lose control of their abilities quite often. End of last year, we had a full-on cyclone, minus the lightning, that took out our whole Potions classroom. It was a really beautiful funnel, a rainbow of stored potions and powders and elixirs and broken colored glass bottles.**

**Anyway, I can picture what will happen next as though I were actually watching it. Mírez, remembering and not wanting to repeat the Potions incident, will be forced to try to placate the little air princess. As he does so, several people will cough out *choke hack hack FAVORITISM choke cough*, but it won't be until he actually excuses her from the exam altogether that he'll really pi-- upset a fire elemental enough to cause things to blow up.**

**And then, chaos will reign. Hey, it's better than boredom.**

Stephanie glanced up from her paper. She was curled up in her desk chair, writing her letter on a textbook on her doubled-up legs. Jelly was using her wand to draw smiley faces in the ceiling as the storm unfolded around them, just as Stephanie had described it.

Right on cue, Professor Mírez shouted over the wind, "IT'S ALL RIGHT, PEPPER. WE'LL TALK ABOUT THE TEST AND SEE ABOUT A SECONDARY DATE, OKAY?"

The winds began to die down, but the sudden lull was only an illusion. "Hey!" Tam Kennedy, one of Lucky's friends, banged his fist on his desk. "Why should _she_ get a secondary test date? She wasn't working any more than the rest of us, but because she has the power to blow your whole classroom off to Kansas, _she_ doesn't have to take the test?"

"I never said that," Mírez began, but Stephanie knew that the students at Fireflame were far more clever in lawyer-like debate than the professors, and Mírez was backed into a very pointed corner.

"That is _exactly_ what you said," Tam rose from his seat, his eyes flashing.

Mírez rubbed his temples with his thumbs. "Teachers deserve much more vacation time than we get," he mumbled.

His grumblings were punctuated by the eruption of a burst of flame around the walls of the classroom, swirling into the vortex Pepper's wind powers had already created.

"Oi, Kennedy, get your fire away from the ceiling," Jelly yelled out. "You're blocking my view." She jabbed her wand upwards, puncturing a small hole in the wood above her.

Stephanie spun her pen around her thumb a few times, idly wondering if Pepper and Tam would be able to draw their destruction out all the way to the end of the class period.

"If there are any water elementals in here," Mírez made one last, desperate attempt at control, "I'll award extra credit points if you can stop them."

"Oh, would it be _many _extra credit points?" a girl in the back called out mockingly, and her friends around her cracked up. Everyone knew that the teachers without real authority had no effective way to control the raw power or the newly gained nonmagical skills of the students. Anyone in the class probably could have overthrown Mírez in a thousand different ways without any significant effort; no one had any need to try for extra credit.

Mírez knew it too, and he sat down at his desk again, defeated. His broad shoulders and towering near-seven-foot height suddenly looked very, very small. Stephanie almost felt sorry for him.

Almost.

**Mírez is pathetic. He took on this job to train some of the most powerful people in the world, and yet he doesn't have any kind of power whatsoever. He specializes in Ancient Runes, and you remember what the worth of Ancient Runes is?**

**That's right: **_**absolutely nada**_**.**

**I'm actually kind of surprised that nobody has taken the opp--~**

Stephanie jumped as a loud BOOM shook the entire classroom and a row of desks spontaneously combusted, each one immediately after the other all the way across the classroom, finally reaching Stephanie's. She threw her hands in front of her face in a vague attempt to protect herself from the sudden explosion of flame, but the blast of intense heat disappeared as suddenly as it had come, a painful jolt of energy rocketing through Stephanie's body. She supposed that was what it felt like to be blown up.

"What the _hell_ are you doing?" Tam Kennedy shouted, and Stephanie tried to yell back but all that came out was a strangled choking noise. "Stop f--" another BOOM blocked out the middle of his sentence "--ing with my fire!"

Something electric was burning into Stephanie's fingers and she had a bad feeling it had something to do with the desk blowing up in her face. The wood of her desk felt like it was searing into her palm and she tried desperately to push it away with the heel of her boot.

Someone's very cold hands were suddenly on her arm and she felt the horrible hot presence being ripped away from her. She stumbled slightly and collapsed to the floor and there was an awful screaming noise pounding into her head and it took Stephanie a long time to realize that it was coming from her.

"Stephanie," Jelly's frantic face filled her vision. "Stephanie, what just happened?"

"My hand," Stephanie gasped out. "My hand, it's burning, Tam burned it, it's on _fire_, Jelly, my hand is burning, oh PEAS AND RICE, Jelly, _make it stop_."

Mírez cleared his throat loudly from where he was standing at the front of the classroom. "That was, um, quite good, Miss Quigley, quite good indeed. Fifty extra credit points for an excellent show of ambient magic."

Stephanie stared at him uncomprehendingly for a long moment before she turned back to Jelly and asked, "My hand _is_ on fire, isn't it?"

_TWO HOURS LATER…_

Stephanie sat balanced on the edge of the student bench in the headmaster's office, looking at every possible thing except the man in front of her. Headmaster Roth was not an especially attractive person. He was cushioned from every angle of every body part by several generous layers of fat and he was sweating so that it looked like he oozed vegetable shortening from his pores.

It was really and truly absolutely disgusting.

"Stephanie Quigley," Roth drawled. He had a slow and articulated, careful speech that he'd adoped to make himself sound like a movie villain expounding his plot needlessly to the hero. He idolized movie villains; he'd even gotten a twirly mustache to roll between his fingers for a sinister effect. "It has come to my attention that you were involved in an… incident in Professor Mírez's classroom."

"Yes," Stephanie's eyes did not stary from the huge, ugly quill pen on Roth's desk.

"I need to know exactly what happened and exactly what you did," Roth leaned forward into the yellow light of his desk lamp. It cast black shadows across his face.

"I don't think I did anything," Stephanie said, and to appease him, added, "Sir."

"Professor Mírez mentioned that you were able to completely deconstruct a fire twister. Was this a conscious effort or brought on out of survival instinct?"

"I don't know what I did, _sir_."

"What did Professor Mírez tell you about what happened?"

"I don't remember." A stream of magma-like flame spiraled lazily from Stephanie's fingers to the floor.

Roth let out a long exhalation. His breath smelled of asparagus. "Miss Quigley, I am not a fool. I know that the students here do not take me seriously. You might take the time to consider that I did not get this position for my good looks and if you don't tell me—"

"It would not look good," Stephanie said carefully, "if it were to be publicly known that you make a practice of threatening your own students." She looked up at him slowly for the first time.

"Are you _blackmailing_ me?" A wad of spit came flying out of Roth's mouth and made a dark patch on the papers on his desk.

"It sounds very playground squabble, but you started it," Stephanie said evenly. "I'm a reasonable person, Professor Roth, but I guarentee you that no one at this school takes kindly to threats." A small fireball burst out of her palm and blazed on the maroon carpet.

Roth stared at her. "You kids," he said finally. "We give you all this training, teach you how to handle the adult world, and suddenly you think you run it. Let me enlighten you on this point: you _don't_. Mírez may be inept, but I am not. I called you into my office for one purpose and one purpose only, and that is to warn you about what will happen if word of what you can do become public knowledge. What will happen will be fast, intense, and not particularly pleasant, and it will not come from me. Ambient magic is not an ability that is well-liked in this world, do I make myself clear?"

Stephanie met his eyes and did her best to look sincere even as sparks jumped from her hands and smouldered on the furniture. "Crystal."

…**and then my headmaster tells me that if I tell ANYONE, there'll be a full on witch hunt of Salem proportions, because apparently nobody **_**likes **_**to have ambient magic hanging around. I don't think you count as telling anybody, though, because you don't know me and you're probably about a million miles away from my school so it's not like you can do anything about it anyway. But just in case, keep that bit to yourself, okay? I wouldn't have told you at all, but I'm a very social person, and unless I tell someone I just know I'm going to blurt it out in some random conversation.**

**I don't really know what ambient magic does, exactly, but I do know that it someone landed me with a load of Kennedy's firepower and I've got no idea what to do with all the flames that keep shooting out of my fingers. I just about burned our dormitory to the ground, which was when I decided it was probably a good idea for me to go outside and work on my homework somewhere that wasn't surrounded by highly flammable objects. One of my dormmates just about murdered me when I singed the edges of her new name-brand jeans. This may make her sound ditzy, but she's one of my best friends and she's really not at all airheaded. (She shelled out $250 in American money for them and ordered them specially from New York City, so she's just a bit protective of them.)**

**Anyway, I just realized that for all my rambling, I never actually answered any of your questions, so I'm going to go ahead and do that now:**

**a) My name is Stephanie Quigley.**

**b) As I mentioned previously, I like to play Quidditch. I also enjoy loud music, talking to people, and chocolate-covered raisins.**

**c) My schedule this year consists of: Charms, Potions, Ancient Runes, Divination, Athletics and Acrobatics, Arithmancy, History of Magic, and Comprehensive Language. I have no idea what "Comprehensive Language" is all about, because that class and Divination don't start for another week. The Language teacher retired last year and they can't find a decent replacement, and they're looking for a new Divination teacher, too. Again.**

**d) This is a school assignment. I guess technically I wasn't roped into writing this, but I'm kind of starting to enjoy it. I sort of start to understand more of my life when I ramble about it here.**

**Well, not actually, but that sounds more insightful than saying, 'hey, I've got an audience who can't tell me to shut up, let's start yammering at her!'**

**And you should totally try out for a Seeker position, rules or no rules! Quidditch is the best sport in the history of… well, everything. My team, they're family for me, more family than anybody related by blood ever was. There is no better feeling in the world than knowing that I'm kicking butt with them on the pitch. Besides, Quidditch is hel- extremely fun and stress relieving. Plus, nobody cares if you cuss when you're playing.**

**Oh, and if you don't mind? Harry Potter's not exactly my favorite person in the world. It wouldn't bother me too much if you didn't bring him up again. ****EVER****.**

**This letter's starting to get excessively long now, I think, so I'm going to sign off.**

**~Stephanie Quigley**

* * *

**Dear Stephanie, **

**How are you? I'm sure that by the time you receive my letter, you will have either gotten in trouble or blown up something else. So it'll give you plenty to talk about, not that you seem to need it. Any suggestions for me? I can never think of anything to write, no offense or anything.**

**It's a shame that you don't enjoy Ancient Runes. In my Miscellaneous Magic class, or MM for short, we actually got to use our knowledge of runes to create protection barriers. Also, the entire point of ancient runes is to break the barriers in place then take the previous protections and make them even stronger. I've heard of Rune Breakers so skilled they managed to create their own devastating runes. (Namely, Bill Weasley.) It's a shame he died during the Second War, he could have accomplished so much more. Anyway, I'm sure the only reason you don't appreciate wards is because of your teacher. In fact, he sounds a lot like one of the Ancient Runes teachers at my school. I've only ever heard stories about him, but he's supposed to be downright terrible. I'm surprised he hasn't been fired yet.**

Imilia put her pen down. She had run out of things to write again. At that moment, a short boy with curly brown hair plopped himself on the seat next to her. With an excited grin, he asked, "Did you order lunch yet? I'm starved!"

Imilia laughed. "I'm glad you finally decided to honor me with your presence, Charlie."

"I was watching my transfigured plants grow. Speaking of Transfiguration," Charlie shifted his chair towards her, "Professor Bezilca has assigned me to be your tutor for transfiguration because without me, the great Charles William Karson, you are doomed to fail."

A young waitress set down a platter of sandwiches on their table and left.

Charlie nearly threw himself on one of the sandwiches as Imilia casually pulled her plate out of the way. "Charlie, you already tutor me in Transfiguration. This isn't going to change anything."

Charlie shrugged, his mouth filled with unrecognizable clumps of food. He swallowed painfully and replied, "I dunno, we'll have to figure something out, I guess. You know all the written work, you just don't have enough wizarding magic for the spells."

"Oh! That's perfect! Thanks, Charlie!" Imilia hurriedly pulled her pen out from under her plate.

**I actually don't think I have ever mentioned my magical ability to you. In your letter, you mentioned the elementals who lost control of their powers. That is one of my abilities; I can control the Water Element. I've gotten much better at controlling my powers and I hardly ever lose control nowadays. It's only because I've been training them since I was very young, and I spend all my energy focusing on my Element, since I have very little wizard magic. I am also an Animagen, which comes from the word Animagus. Basically, I can turn into animals at will. My professors haven't found my limits yet, except that I can't choose specific breeds and I can't alter my age. **

**And that is the reason why I can't be on the Quidditch team. However, it's not as though I'm an exception; all the other Elementals aren't allowed on the teams, especially the Wind Elementals. Depending on circumstances, the Fire Elementals are sometimes allowed, as long as a professor always watches them for any sign of magic. Sometimes I wish these ridiculous rules weren't created, but I understand it isn't fair if we use our magic against pure skill. On the other hand, playing Quidditch for me is really just a way to relax and fly. I don't think I would enjoy being on a competitive team.**

Charlie glanced at the letter and rolled his eyes before diving back to his sandwich. He was probably disappointed it wasn't a secret cheat to becoming the most powerful wizard in the world.

Imilia looked at Charlie for a moment, then she dug through her satchel and pulled out Stephanie's letter. "Charlie, do you know what ambient magic is?" Imilia glanced around at the people in the cafe, but knew Stephanie had probably just been exaggerating about the importance of ambient magic. She seemed to enjoy exaggerating things.

Charlie put down the last pieces of his sandwich and set his elbows on the glass table top. "Ambient...ambient. I think we studied that in Comprehensive Language a few years ago. Let's see, ambient comes from a Latin root that can closely be translated as 'surrounding.' Of course, the word might not be based on its root. You never know."

Imilia rolled her eyes, "Only you would remember something you learnt such a long time ago."

"It was interesting!" Charlie replied. "By the way, are you going to finish your sandwich?"

"No, of course not. I always buy food I don't want to eat," Imilia sarcastically replied.

Charlie laughed and pulled her sandwich towards him. "Thanks!"

Imilia sighed and turned back to her letter.

**I've got to finish writing this letter soon because I have to go save my lunch from my friend Charlie. By the way, were you serious about being sent to the headmaster's office and him threatening you?**

**I'll write to you soon! **

**Imilia**

**P.S. Charlie says ambient magic has to do with surrounding magic.**

Imilia threw the letter into her bag and turned to Charlie, "Sandwich, please."

Charlie pulled the sandwich protectively towards him as he tried to pout, failing miserably.

* * *

Moments later, Deborah Trelawney stood up suddenly from her seat, her eyes roaming, out of control. She leaned heavily over the table, her white hands gripping the firm wood for support. Slowly, the small room of wizards and witches hushed as Deborah let out a gasp of incomprehensible muttering before sinking down to the floor.

Harry Potter shot from his place on the bench and raced towards the young witch. "Debby? Debby? Are you all right?"

As he reached out and firmly gripped her arms, trying to steady her, he quietly began relaying instructions, "Someone get ready to write this down. She's prophesizing."

"Sand!" Deborah gasped out. "Blackened sand."

"Quiet," Harry snapped at the others, though it was unnecessary. Everyone in the room was waiting with bated breath for any word of their future.

"They think it's a school," Deborah reached for Harry, trying to steady herself against him. "He's using them..."

"Who is?" Harry asked automatically, even though he knew there was no point asking Deborah questions when she was prophesizing. He'd seen from Professor Trelawney so long ago that true Seers were unaware of their surroundings when they were watching the future.

"A school and a treasure," Deborah's head jerked slightly, "Everyone's hunting for the treasure…"

Harry pulled her closer, so as not to miss a single word.

"Their leader is hunting for the treasure!" Deborah's eyes opened, haunted with memories. "Bellatrix Black!"

She ripped her body from Harry's hands and her eyes frantically searched the occupants of the room for something only she could see. Her shoulders shook with anger and fear. "Bellatrix Black! She's the one. She killed him... killed my dad."

Harry Potter stood up slowly as Deborah collapsed on her chair, breathing heavily. He stepped between her and the others in the room, shielding her from their inquistive stares. "Are you all right, Debby?"

"Did this one make any sense?" Debby looked up at him, almost pleading. "Will it help?"

"It's definitely helped us a lot, Debby. Thank you." Harry knelt next to her again, placing his hand on her shoulder soothingly. "But right now, I'm more worried about you than the future."

Almost instantly Colin Creevey's voice rose above the murmurs, "Don't say that, Dennis, of course Harry knows what Debby was talking about!"

Harry grimaced and shot an acrid glare into the crowd behind him.

* * *

_Please review!_


	4. 3: Power Play

**I've only got a few minutes to get this down, so sorry if it's a bit sloppy. I'm sitting on my broom just before Quidditch practice starts. The rest of the team is still in the locker room, but I know all their pre-practice rituals so well, I can tell you exactly what they're doing even though I can't see them.**

**Jelly is currently dancing around the room, humming along with some oldie song (usually from the eighties) and getting it stuck in everyone's heads. "Dancing" mainly consists of hopping over people's boots, swinging their cloaks and robes around, and narrowly not smacking them in the face, which creates a background of mild cursing and a cloud of flying objects sent in her direction, usually with deadly accuracy; we are Quidditch players, after all.**

**Albondigas, nicknamed Bone, joins in neither activity, being preoccupied with keeping our captain, Selene, from burning down the entire Quidditch pitch as her fire elemental's temper flares out of control when she's arguing with her latest boyfriend, which she does before every single practice. Her current partner plays Beater and is named Ethan. He just joined this year to replace Selene's last boyfriend, who quit the team when he broke up with her at the end of last year. (I'm not sure if Selene only dates good Beaters or if the only boys willing to date her are just Beaters who are trying to schmooze their way on to the team. Either way, they don't usually last long.)**

**Anyway, while all this is going on, Lea is sitting by herself in the corner, balancing her Beater's bat on her thumb, cursing when Jelly makes it wobble but otherwise very much alone. And that leaves the last Chaser, Andrew, who isn't there at all right now because he's always late to practice and there's really no reason for today's to be any different.**

**I know that description makes us sound like a mess, but we're really quite brilliant.**

Stephanie stuffed her quill and parchment into the inside pocket of her robes as Selene Parker nearly steamrolled over her, rocketing out of the locker room, a trail of flame shooting out of the back of her broom as she propelled it forwards with her elemental powers, shouting "STUPID SON OF A TOASTER OVEN!"

"Selene," Albondigas Estevez followed her, careful to keep out of range of the fire. "Why do you even date him?"

Selene, somehow hearing his soft words through her screaming, halted nearly instantly in midair, her firepower flickering out. Ethan floated over next to Bone, looking amused by Selene's antics rather than upset. "Bone," Selene said, with the air of someone who is tired of explaining herself, "fighting and name calling are part of the joy of an intimate relationship." She swept over to Ethan, hot air gusting around her, washing over the rest of the team like a heat wave as she kissed him.

Andrew Tanaka whistled softly, and Jelly nearly knocked him off his broom as she tried to block his view. "Hey, Selene! We have kids here, remember? Keep it G-rated."

"I'm not that much younger than you," Andrew retorted, darting away from Jelly. "I've _seen_ people making out before."

"Oh, the horror! Loss of innocence at your young age," Jelly shook her head and chucked the Quaffle at him. He fumbled for it, just barely able to grip it with the tips of his fingers.

"Again, not much younger than you," Andrew made a chest pass at Jelly's head and she ducked. Stephanie lurched forwards, but instead of catching the Quaffle, she made a fist with both hands and swung at the ball, knocking it over to Andrew. Jelly jumped in front of him and knocked the ball towards Selene and Ethan, who were still intertwined in a way that could only restrict their playing abilities.

Selene broke away and turned just in time to catch the Quaffle before it hit her. "Summers!" she snarled. "If you EVER do that again, you can consider yourself officially resigned from the team."

Jelly offered her team captain an innocent look. "But Captain Parker, Stephanie said—"

"I didn't say anything!" Stephanie held up her hands in the universal gesture of denial.

"Both of you, stop messing around and start actually practicing. Go score some damn _goals_!" Selene screamed.

"Jeez, no need to get angry or anything," Stephanie offered her captain a smile that was only slightly mocking. "It'd be a shame if you burned the Quidditch pitch down."

"Don't tempt me!"

Stephanie shrugged and leaned back as she floated lazily towards the hoops.

"Steph, stop that," Albondigas Estevez tossed the Quaffle at her, forcing her to sit up to catch it. "You shouldn't bait a fire elemental with a temper like Selene's."

"_All_ fire elementals have tempers like Selene's," Stephanie said pointedly.

"Okay," Albondigas amended. "You shouldn't bait a fire elemental with a temper like Selene's when she also happens to be the captain of your Quidditch team."

"I wouldn't," Stephanie said, "except she makes it so much fun." She offered Albondigas a teasing wave as she pitched the Quaffle backwards over her head without looking where it was aimed. As though they'd planned it all along, Andrew swept by, just managing to tap the Quaffle with the tips of his fingers, knocking it down. Jelly was already in place, and she flipped upside down on her broom, whipping her feet over her head to make a soccer-style goal through the left side hoop. The entire sequence took less than ten seconds.

Stephanie offered Albondigas a sideways grin. "Dang, I'm _good_."

**We've got a fifteen minute break in the middle of practice to retie our shoelaces or whatever it is people do on their breaks. As my boots don't require retying of the laces, I think I shall put the time to better use by updating you via letter.**

**Not to be modest or anything, but the three Chasers on our team, just by ourselves, we're the best team in the league. We've been playing together for years, to the point where normal tactics are second nature and we spend all of practice wasting time on crazy stunts. Our captain doesn't really approve of them much, but she's doesn't really approve of anything we do, so it doesn't bother any of us too much. She's a fire elemental, and if you know any fire elementals then you know that explains everything.**

"Okay, people, break's over," Selene's distinctive voice shrilled through the room, and the team let out a collective groan. "Stephanie, you better leave your stunts here, and Ethan, leave off with the ugly faces."

"How do you know that's not his normal one?" Jelly asked softly, and Stephanie elbowed her as Lea snorted softly.

Back on the Quidditch pitch, Stephanie, Jelly, and Andrew decided to try to engineer a complicated feat involving a lot of flips and swapping brooms in midair.

"Pass," Jelly said, and Andrew seamlessly launched himself forwards, flipping off the front end of his broom and dropping down slightly to catch the back end of her broom. Stephanie jumped up, releasing the Quaffle as she grasped Andrew's broomstick and Jelly somersaulted backwards on to Stephanie's broom.

"What the hell are you doing?" Albondigas inquired matter-of-factly.

"Scoring," Andrew said, and almost effortlessly sent the Quaffle flying through the middle hoop. Albondigas drifted backwards lazily and tossed the Quaffle back to Jelly.

"You might at least make an _effort_ to stop us," Stephanie said, swerving to a stop in front of Albondigas.

"You might make an effort to take a shot that doesn't involve getting off your brooms in midair," Albondigas returned levelly.

Stephanie sighed dramatically and rotated to face Jelly and Andrew again. "It appears that if we want some decent opposition, we must abandon our foolish antics."

"And here we were thinking Selene was the only one with no sense of fun," Jelly shook her head as she tossed the Quaffle half heartedly into the air and caught it again. "Pass."

Andrew swept by as she tossed the ball into the air again, grasping it just as it hit the peak of the throw. "Come on, Bone, it's just for fun."

"I can't compete with your stunt shots and you know it," Albondigas shrugged. "If you want to keep making them, though, they're highly enjoyable to watch."

Jelly dipped in front of Andrew and jerked back upwards abruptly. Stephanie stared at her, then turned to Andrew. "Did you come up with a new play and not tell me?"

"I have _no _idea what she's doing," Andrew shook his head as he rose towards Jelly's still increasing height.

"Hey, knock it off," Jelly shouted down at him as her broom jolted sideways away from him again. "Whatever you're doing, _cut it out_."

"I'm not doing anything!" Andrew dropped the Quaffle as he rose towards her again.

"Hey!" Jelly yelled as her broom practically flipped over in the opposite direction. "Okay, you're not a kid and you can watch Selene make out to your heart's content, see if I care. Now whatever you're doing to the broom, for Merlin's sake, STOP."

"I'm still not doing anything!" Andrew looked helplessly at Stephanie, who shook her head slightly.

"Jelly, what's happening?" she called out.

"Your broom doesn't flipping respond," Jelly snapped as it launched forwards again.

"I didn't modify this one at all," Stephanie tried to maneuver herself closer, but for every inch she moved forwards, Jelly shot two inches back. "It's straight from the manufacturer."

"Sue them!" Jelly shot back, her knuckles turning white from the force with which she gripped the broom handle as she struggled to keep it steady. "Dammit dammit dammit..." She slid sideways as the broom jolted again.

Andrew shot towards her instinctively trying to catch her. The broom responded with equal speed, darting backwards towards the stands, yanking itself right out of Jelly's grasp. She crashed into the seats, swearing profusely as she rolled into the front guard rails. Without a rider, the broom danced wildly through the air for a minute before stopping.

And then it dropped.

It was like it no longer held the magical power to hold itself up, and the only force working on it was gravity. The broom fell to the earth and lay there, no longer anything other than a simple, everyday, Muggle broomstick.

Stephanie dropped down next to Jelly on the stands. "Are you okay?" she asked, her eyes still on the broom on the bottom of the pitch. _My broom_ she thought distantly.

"NO!" Jelly turned to look down at the ten foot drop to the pitch ground below. "Brooms- they just _don't_ malfunction like that. It was like- it just died or something. Brooms can't... they don't... how could this have happened?"

Stephanie shook her head wordlessly. "I don't know."

**...I sort of have a theory about the whole thing though, and since I could never in a million years tell Jelly that I'm the one who nearly killed her, I need to tell you or I'm going to go crazy with guilt. When I was jumping off the broom, I swear I got the best lift in midair I've ever managed before, and when I was pushing myself up with my hands, I got the weirdest head rush. I suppose I could just be imagining all this, but what other explanation is there? Somehow, the spells that keep the broom working properly are inside me now, and not in the broom...**

**I'm sure I'm boring you half to death with all my problems that you probably don't care about, so I'll move on. You're a water elemental? That's a pretty unique gift. I've never seen a water elemental in action before, which is really bizarre when you think about how many elementals are wandering around the school. What kinds of things can you do with that? Can you make tsunamis or choke people with their own saliva?**

**And you're an Animagen too! I suppose it's not much difference from being an Animagus, of which I know many- is it? Can you turn into a bird and fly around? How about a worm? Then you could tunnel down under the ground when you didn't want to be disturbed. Or you could become a fish and swim really far away if you ever wanted to get away from people. It would be like free transportation to Hawaii whenever you wanted! Plus you could make all the currents go the way you wanted, so fishy-swimming would be really easy.**

**But as far as letting your abilities prevent you from playing Quidditch, I think you should just scr- forget the rules and join a team anyway. If you want something, you should just go for it, no matter what everyone else thinks. (And don't give me any of that garbage about just wanting to relax and not actually play. You're just making excuses to yourself.)**

**Yours truly,**

**~Stephanie**

**P.S. Of course I was serious about being sent to the headmaster's office. I wouldn't lie about something important like that. I may have added a few dramatic flourishes, but what I tell you is essentially the truth. You're very easy to talk to, given that you can't roll your eyes or doze off when I ramble on. Plus you don't know me, which is incredibly freeing as far as sharing personal information goes, in a paradoxical sort of way. Anyway...**

**

* * *

**

**Dear Stephanie,**

**How are you? I can tell Quidditch keeps you busy! Shortly after reading your letter, I went flying around on one of the school brooms. There wasn't much to see, but it reminded me how relaxing flying was! Also, that made me realize that I haven't attended a school game in a couple years. The next time there's a big game, I'll go see it. I suppose it requires that I brush up on the rules of the game first!**

Imilia looked up quickly as a handsome man with a strong stature and short brown hair entered the classroom. He dropped a heavy-looking pile of folders on his desk and straightened his white-collared shirt impatiently.

Professor Vicven, her Miscellaneous Magic instructor, was one of the few male teachers that was adored by all the girls, not that Imilia understood their attraction to a middle-aged man. She supposed it might have something to do with the pleasant aura that always surrounded him, thanks to his constant smiling and jokes that no one understood. Well, whatever it was, he inspired his students to work harder. No one could deny this strange phenomenon, as Professor Vicven had even managed to motivate Keid Black, who was failing nearly a good majority of his classes, to work. Then again, Imilia thought some of the girls might only like Vicven based on his charming, unrecognizable accent. None of his students could guess where it was from.

Professor Vicven shuffled through a couple folders before announcing, "Gud morning! I'm glad you managed to rrroll out uf bed on thiz fine afterrrnoon!"

Leo Gersany, a boy sitting a few rows over, chuckled loudly, "Professor, we've been up for most of the day already!"

A young man sitting slouched in the back of the room raised his eyebrows, "Speak for yourself!"

Vicven laughed charmingly, "No one would expect you to get up urrrly anyway, Keid."

Katrice Kelms, a very pretty Filipino girl who was practically sitting on Keid's lap leaned over to him and whispered, "What does urrrly mean?"

"He means early." Keid raised his eyebrows suggestively and leaned in to kiss her.

Professor Vicven cleared his throat, until the two relunctantly separated, then turned back to the board.

"For today's lezzon we will be focuzing on combining opposites." Vicven casually flicked his wand and notes fluttered across the board. "You've all hearrrd that opposites attrrract, and in the caze of magic, it'z only sometimes trrrue. But I'll let you find that out yourrrselves. Tonight'z homeworrrk iz to wrrrite twenty-zeven inchez analyzing the differrrent opposites and how they attrrract. Don't forget to include the elementz that combine and what they crrreate."

Professor Vicven raised his voice over the class's collective sigh, "You will find the name of yourrr parrrtnerrr on yourrr hand. Please rrrememberrr to copy down the notes and follow the instrrructions I gave you yezterrrday. Anyone who iz not an elemental and haz no opposite will be given differrrent work, but I moztly managed to pairrr everrryone up in eitherrr twos or thrrrees."

Imilia smiled at no one in particular; Professor Vicven always had interesting ways of revealing partners. She glanced down at her hand, only to see _Keid Black_ scribbled across her palm.

Imilia huffed a sigh of disgust.

**I'm currently in my Miscellaneous Magic class. Prof. Vicven is actually one of the few good teachers I have, although he gives us an unbelievably large amount of work. Miscellaneous Magic is a class for students with different magics like elementals. I'm sure you're not interested, but we're currently studying 'opposites' in magic and how they react to each other. I'm unfortunately partnered with a boy I dislike. He is unbelievably annoying. I'm sure this lesson will be fun!**

**...By the way, that was sarcasm.**

Imilia folded her letter gingerly and slid it into her bag as a Keid Black dropped into a nearby seat and propped his feet up with an ungraceful thunk. With a sigh, Imilia let her eyes run from his boot-clad feet to his handsome face.

"Keid Black." She acknowledged him with a stiff nod.

He ran a hand through his black hair and it quickly returned to curling around his cheeks. Im-ili-a." Keid seemed pensive. "We meet again."

She gritted her teeth. One of her start-of-the-term goals was try to be friendly to this menace of a boy. She hadn't been able to think of anything else when her teacher had asked her to share her goals. There were many reasons why she disliked Keid Black, the first one being he enjoyed tormenting her for no reason whatsoever. The second one was that he had taken a unnerving interest in her at the beginning of the school year. The third one was that he was a perverted boy who didn't care about school and spent his time hiding in various places making out with different girls.

Imilia smiled stiffly, "Shall we begin?"

But Keid ignored her. His feet dropped down to the ground as he moved to the edge of his seat. "Imilia…" he trailed off, "Why don't you have a last name?"

Imilia's hands curled. "I just don't have one." She wouldn't give in to Keid's teasing.

"And why don't you have a last name?" Keid's sing-song voice was back.

Imilia's eyes narrowed and she glared at him. He already knew very well why she didn't have a last name.

Keid's coaxing smile grew. "Why won't you tell me the truth, Imilia? Because you're embarrassed? Scared? Ashamed?"

Imilia leaned in and angrily whispered, "I won't tell you because you already know."

The loud chattering around the room reassured her that no one was listening.

"Of course I know. It wasn't easy. After all, who wants to remember the little black sheep, no, the little _squib_ of the family."

"I am not a squib,_" s_he hissed as her anger surged.

Keid laughed dryly. "Why else would you have gotten disowned?"

Imilia's finger nails dug into her skin. "If I didn't have magic, why would I be here at Fireflame Academy?"

"Pity. Charity. The headmaster seems to treat you with nothing but pity, or hadn't you noticed?"

A steady dripping reached Imilia's ears. She angrily uncurled her soaking hands and brought them to Keid's face. "I'm a water elemental," she nearly yelled, "That's magic!"

Keid wrapped his hands around hers, heat building up in his palms as flames burst from his skin.

It was a battle between opposite elements.

"Water doesn't burn," Imilia threw at him.

"Of course not, it evaporates." The burning flames grew higher, to a more dangerous level, and Keid laughed scornfully. "Water is weak."

Imilia pulled her burning hands away; the glowing red marks spreading over her palms brought tears to her eyes. "Water isn't weak," she mumbled.

"So basically, your lack of proper magic got you disowned." Keid sat back casually.

"No! My…" Imilia trailed off, until Keid's smirk brought back her righteous anger. "My wizard magic used to be nearly nonexistent. But not anymore! I c-can use three types of magic! I am _not _a squib and I will _never_ be a squib!"

She stood up abruptly and grabbed her letter and a pen. Imilia turned to Professor Vicven. "Professor, can I go to the bathroom please?"

Vicven looked up from his desk and nodded good-naturally. "Of curze you may, Imilia."

"I'll see you soon, Imilia Malfoy," whispered Keid.

Imilia's breath caught in her throat. She quickly pushed through the doorway and into the hall.

**I'm currently hanging out in the bathroom, what fun! I have a lot of work waiting for me to do. I think I'm just going to finish this letter now and start it.**

**Concerning your ambient power, I think you should definitely get it trained. Doesn't your school have a class for elementals and such?**

**There are, unfortunately, many restrictions to my elemental power. Though I have a certain amount of control over it, I am too weak to use too much at a time. If I wanted to create a tsunami, I would need an earth elemental to cause an earthquake and I would build up the water from there.**

**Animagens are only different from Animagi because there is no limit to the number of forms I can take on, but controlling each animal takes just as much work as the first one. I've never tried turning into a fish because of the possible predators, but it does sound interesting. Unfortunately, I can't shift the currents by myself either because it requires an air elemental.**

**About Quidditch, I suppose if I were desperate to join I probably would find a way, but I'm not. It's not on my list of priorities and I don't have the proper equipment anyway.**

**Headmasters musn't be paid well because it seems like they're all terrible at their jobs.**

**Imilia**

Imilia's painfully red hands shook as she pushed her letter back into her bag. She could barely focus on her magic enough to run cool water over her fingers as Keid's words echoed through her mind.

* * *

Bellatrix had never liked underground buildings. She didn't understand the point of expanding downwards when there were so many other directions to take without ever leaving the Earth's surface. She took a deep breath and made a mental note to avoid holding future meetings with Roth in his school whenever possible.

"Mrs. Lestrange," Roth stepped into the Entrance Hall. "Welcome to Fireflame. Would you care to accompany me to my office?"

"Certainly," she said with unnecessary good grace, considering the circumstances. She thought to herself that the Dark Lord would never have been so generous if he were called to a dark and dusty cave in the middle of the night for anything less than the death of Harry Potter.

The walk to his office was short. Roth muttered a password to the hideous stone bird that watched over an ornate and equally ugly door and held it open to allow her to pass through first. She swept by him, paying no mind to his courtesy.

His office was, thankfully, above ground, and featured a large spelled window that covered practically the entire back wall. Roth indicated the sofa on the wall opposite the window. "The chairs near the desk are reserved for tormenting students," he explained.

Bellatrix took a seat without a word. Roth offered her a Firewhiskey, which she declined, and poured a glass for himself. She was losing patience. There was no time for pleasantries, especially not at two in the morning. "Roth-" she began.

"I understand the delicacy of your position," Roth interrupted. Bellatrix ground her teeth. Had these people never heard of proper respect to their superiors? "You will, of course, always have the full resources of Fireflame Academy at your disposal."

Irritated by his inability to get to the point, Bellatrix rose from her seat, trying her best to look coldly angry and impressive. Roth looked at her, just a pathetic, fat, insecure, and very sweaty man who barely reached her height. At that moment, she despised him. "Roth, it is two o'clock. In the morning. Before dawn. You called me here to your little scam operation and, at great personal expense and inconvenience, I have come, expecting that you would have something worthwhile, if not essential, to tell me. I have limited time in Egypt, none of which I plan to waste here, listening to your sad cries for attention. Do you have anything _of consequence_ for me?"

Roth stared at her. Was it just her imagination, or did he look a little scared? "I have been searching for capable students to join the cause, as you instructed."

"And?"

He was still looking at her in that strange new way, perhaps summoning his courage to speak with her. "I have collected several elementals that may be vulnerable to certain recruitment tactics."

"Give me their files," Bellatrix extended a hand regally. She rather liked having this small man to lord over. Perhaps that was why the Dark Lord had allowed Pettigrew to remain among the ranks for so long.

Roth turned to his desk and fumbled with the files. Several slipped to the ground, and he had to stoop to collect them again. Bellatrix turned away impatiently, relishing the feeling of power she held over Roth. Maybe she'd have a few more meetings with him after all.

"Here," Roth panted, pressing a rather thick pile of papers into her hands. "Can I get anything else for you?"

"You can get out of my way," Bellatrix snapped, and stepped purposefully around his excessive body mass.

Roth watched her go, waiting until the door banged shut behind her and the loud crack of Apparition had echoed away before picking up the last file off the floor and plopping down on to the sofa.

"Bitch," he muttered to himself as he downed the last of his Firewhiskey and tossed Stephanie Quigley's file back on to his desk.


	5. 4: Educational Experiences

**Hi, Imilia.**

**I'm trying to think of something clever to say here, but I am really, really, REALLY tired, so instead of giving you a creative/interesting excuse, all I have to offer is the truth. There was a fire in my bedroom this morning and your letter got a little singed, so it's difficult for me to read it. I'm doing my best to fill in the blanks so I can answer your questions.**

"Miss Quigley?" Stephanie jerked upwards at the sound of her name.

"Yes," she said, trying to project something like confidence into the word. Ninety percent of the time, the correct answer to any lecture question posed by Professor Sinistra was "yes." Add to it a little cockiness, and there was no reason for anyone to think she hadn't been paying very close attention.

Professor Sinistra nodded and continued her speech. "Since then, however, our legal system has been modified so the court is primarily in the hands of he with a grasp of good rhetorical skills, which is part of what makes Comprehensive Language such an essential class..."

Stephanie twirled her spare quill idly between her fingers. Just to her left, a Quick Quotes Quill danced over a slightly crumpled sheet of parchment, automatically taking notes on the lecture.

**I'm sure my school has a class for elementals, but not being one, I really wouldn't know. Okay, no, that's a lie. Élise has some sort of special mindbender power that I don't really understand, so she gets out of half of physical training to go practice it. Apparently all the elementals share that class with her; it's where they learn control. I wouldn't mind learning control, myself, but... well... I guess what the headmaster said is sticking to me more than it should. I'm really kind of jumpy about anyone who I actually see on a daily basis finding out what I do.**

"…and I expect twenty inches of parchment on the subject by next lesson," Professor Sinistra called over the banging chairs and soft chatter as the class all tried to get out to the door at the same time. Stephanie rolled up her parchment of notes and slid it with her letter into her bag. Swinging it over her shoulder, she paused when she saw Ethan Croft waiting by the door, watching her. "What?"

"You look tired." Ethan propped open the door with his foot, motioning for her to pass by. "What were you doing last night?"

"I was sleeping."

"Except you're tired."

"So maybe I wasn't sleeping _well_."

Ethan rolled his eyes. "Come on, Steph. It's a simple question."

"Not only do you have no right to pry into my personal life, but there's nothing about last night for you to pry into." Stephanie walked past him without looking at him. "Besides, don't you have that funky power that should be telling you that I'm not lying?"

"I can only understand your emotions, not your thoughts," Ethan hurried after her, letting the door bang shut on the short, blonde-pigtailed girl behind him. She swore at him and he flipped her off automatically. "All I can tell is that you're tired and you get irritated whenever I bring up last night again. Which, naturally, only makes me more curious."

"Which, of course, only makes me want to tell you less," Stephanie smiled at him sweetly. "Get lost, Ethan. As in, the bottom of the Pacific Ocean kind of lost."

**As of late, all the boys I know seem to be making it a personal mission to be as obnoxious as possible. The lot of them are a waste of oxygen and should be Transfigured into plants so at least they can do the world the service of photosynthesis.**

Stephanie caught up with Jelly and Élise in the hallway between History of Magic and Transfiguration. "Hey there," she said easily, squeezing in between her two roommates. "Is there any homework due for Live Transfigurations today?"

"Isn't it kind of late to be asking that?" Jelly shrugged Stephanie's arm off her shoulder.

"Better late than never," Élise contributed. "But it doesn't matter because nothing's due today."

"Excellent," Stephanie pushed open the classroom door, propping it open with her heel. "I have the History of Magic notes for you, Élise."

"Sinistra notice that I left?"

"If she did, she didn't say anything," Stephanie slid into a desk near the back of the room, next to where Jelly was already spreading out her parchments and ink wells. "Give me the notes back when you're done, I need them to fake my way through the homework assignment." She tossed the roll of parchment to Élise, who fumbled with it for a moment before managing to stuff it into her own bag.

"I hope you all finished the reading," Professor Devenire raised her voice and the chatter died away almost instantly. Devenire was a short but forbidding woman with curled black hair and sharp black eyes. Her nose was a little too long and slightly curved, the stereotypical Muggle witch's nose. A long scar crossed her left palm from pinky to thumb, exactly the same length and shape as the one on the right side of her face. Many students had formed theories as to their origin, but no one had yet gained the courage to ask her about them. "Before I begin, does anyone have any questions regarding the basic principles of Animagi?" She glared at each student in turn, as though daring them to speak.

Stephanie cautiously raised her hand, and without waiting for Devenire's acknowledgement, asked, "Is it possible for someone to have more than one Animagus form?" Jelly stared at her; it was their usual policy to be as invisible as possible in class, staying under the teacher's radar so they could get away with things like passing notes, leaving halfway through the period, and copying homework assignments without the teachers bothering to really pay attention to them.

Devenire's gaze settled on Stephanie's still half-raised hand. "What inspired this question, Miss Quigley?"

Stephanie only shrugged in reply.

Devenire raised her left eyebrow slightly. "Refresh my memory if I'm wrong but I believe this is Transfiguration of Live Creatures year _three_. You are asking me to repeat the definition of an Animagus, a word you should have learned years ago, perhaps in year one?"

"No," Stephanie said, struggling to maintain a straight face. "Is it theoretically possible, through an inherent part of a witch's core power source, to adopt multiple Animagus forms?"

Devenire took a long moment before answering. "What you suggest would create an extremely unstable core power. It is highly unlikely that such an abnormality would allow anyone with this theoretical ability to maintain any form for a sustained period of time, which would prevent him or her from learning how to move in the different species' forms."

"So you're saying it's unlikely they'd have any measure of control over their bodies once they'd transformed?"

Devenire nodded.

"Unlikely, but not impossible?"

Devenire glared at Stephanie, but she persisted, despite Jelly's cautionary kick beneath the desk. "What if such a power did not manifest until later in the bearer's life? Or… or what if it took over some other part of the core power? Suppose the ability to transform took over the ability to spellcast, so that all that power was rerouted—"

"Miss Quigley, your inchoate hypotheses are wasting class time," Devenire tapped her wand against her palm. Stephanie felt her muscles tighten—it was not unheard of for Devenire to simply use magic to silence disruptive students. "I think one bottle of Firewhiskey will be enough, do I make myself clear?"

Stephanie blinked. "Um, no, actually. I'm not too good with metaphors, Professor…"

Devenire took several slow, purposeful steps up the aisle way. "Are you kidding? Did you see that crowd? They probably need one bottle of Firewhiskey each."

Stephanie squinted at her professor, not quite sure how to react. "Um, I don't think I understand," she tried to keep her tone conversational.

Or maybe Devenire was the one who wasn't making any sense.. She glanced around the room; judging by the looks her classmates were sending her way, it seemed pretty likely that they didn't see or hear anything unusual in her teacher.

Which meant this was only happening in her own head, which meant she was the one who had lost her sanity.

Stephanie closed her eyes, hoping desperately that this was all some sort of twisted nonsensical dream, and any second now she'd wake up in her own bed back in the dorm room-

_"Miss Quigley!_"

Stephanie jerked in her seat, her eyes flying open involunatarily. Devenire was sitting on the edge of her desk for some reason, her rigid curls stretched into dark waves flowing loosely around her face, a soft and comforting smile turning up the corners of her lips.

It was the most unnerving thing Stephanie had ever seen.

She lurched to her feet, her chair toppling over behind her. She tripped over the hard edged chair legs, sending immensely painful jolts up her legs, which seemed to rule out the possibility of a dream. Stephanie was pretty sure her dreams had never hurt her this much.

"Stephanie?" Jelly rose from her seat far more gracefully than Stephanie had been able to. "Calm down, Steph. If we give them a bottle apiece, we'll get sued when they pass out on the floor."

Stephanie gaped at her. It was one thing for her to start seeing Devenire as some sort of- sweet young woman or something. It was quite another for Jelly to be picking up where her professor's insanity had left off. She stood numbly for a few minutes, suddenly feeling completely lost. Maybe if she just waited for a little bit, everything would go back to normal...

"We could always dilute it with Kool Aid," Devenire's demented form suggested, raising an eyebrow mischievously.

Stephanie glanced at Jelly for some form of support and reeled back in shock.

Her best friend had been replaced by the hazy form of a _guy_.

He was undeniably a very good looking guy with sizable muscles, an amiable smile, and a very intelligent glint to his eyes, but his form became vaguely fuzzy from his waist to his feet and every ounce of Stephanie's conscience was screaming _THIS IS NOT NORMAL!_

"Tam, calm down," the guy- boy, really- reached towards her and Stephanie automatically recoiled.

"You startled us," Devenire added. "We didn't notice you come in-"

"Someone please wake me up," Stephanie said helplessly, backing up against the door. "This isn't possible, this has to be a dream, wake me up, _wake me up_...!"

"Of course I care about you," the boy was offended. Stephanie closed her eyes, pressed herself up against the splintery wood, slid to the floor, curling up to hide her head protectively behind her folded knees.

"Tam, be careful- it's not safe to do that here-"

"_WAKE ME UP!_" The room was becoming unbearably hot, and Stephanie was only vaguely aware of the boiling tears squeezing past her eyelids or the open flames that licked at her school uniform as they spread across the floor.

"No, Tam, _don't_!"

"Stop f—," Stephanie coughed on the building cloud of smoke, "-ing with my fire!"

Her words were punctuated by a giant burst of flame that erupted from her hands and jetted towards the walls and ceiling. There was a momentary lull as the walls glowed, trying to absorb the power, and then the flames ricocheted back out. The small desert stones set in the walls exploded one by one down the hall, much like a tipping row of dominoes. Fire danced around her, consumed her, and Stephanie laughed with glee, ignoring the gradually quieting screams in the background and the blackness that slowly crept across her vision.

**All the troubles of the world are caused by boys. Every single problem is rooted in the male gene. At the moment, I think we'd be better off without the lot of them. **

"You cannot afford to lose control like that!" Devenire slammed her palm against her desk. Stephanie resisted the instinct to flinch and watched her professor levelly. "Accidents like that will get you and your colleagues _killed_ in the real world."

"What colleagues, Professor?" Stephanie inquired evenly. She had woken only a few minutes ago, still curled up on the classroom floor. The room had been empty save for Professor Devenire and Jelly, so Stephanie supposed she had been out for awhile. Professor Devenire had promptly called her back into her office while Jelly made a big show about how Stephanie probably felt awful and surely this could wait until she'd had a chance to recover.

Stephanie wouldn't have admitted it to Devenire, but if anything the explosion of firepower made her feel... better. Stronger. No longer exhausted. As though someone had packed wood all over her body, and the flames had finally been able to burn it all away. As long as she didn't let herself think about the possibility she was losing her mind, she was feeling quite confident in herself. She threw out a bit of sarcasm with just the slightest hint of a grin, "I thought Fireflame was supposed to develop us into—what does the brochure say? 'Smart, self-reliant, independent bearers of the magical legacy'?"

Devenire glared. It took all Stephanie's self-control not to take a step back. Devenire was forbidding in the classroom, but surrounded by the dark stone of her adjacent office, she was downright terrifying. "Are you a fire elemental, Miss Quigley?"

Stephanie considered for a moment, then settled on a non-answer. "Not by birth."

"Do you have any semblance of control over the fire that you share so liberally with the rest of the world?"

Stephanie did not answer that question at all. Devenire leaned back, her wand suddenly in her hand again. "You're not a fire elemental. You're not even an exceptionally gifted student. I can only suppose that you came by these abilities in another… _accidental_ fashion." Her tone clearly showed she did not believe there was anything accidental about it. "Get a hold of yourself, Miss Quigley. If you're going to use your ambient powers, you need to learn to control the abilities you absorb."

"Is what I can do now standard knowledge?" Stephanie asked, fiddling with the fingers on her gloves.

"While there has not been a public announcement of any sort, it is a fairly safe assumption that I am not the only one who knows," Devenire rose from her seat. "I find it unnecessary to punish you for what was so clearly an unintentional and hopefully educational outburst of uncontrolled fire element power. However, I must insist that you return to my office tomorrow night so I may enlighten you on what you missed while…" she paused, probably trying to find a politically correct way to point out that Stephanie had slept through basically the entire class period, "recuperating from the incident today."

As the woman seemed to be waiting for a response, Stephanie offered a submissive, "Yes ma'am."

Devenire eyed her reaction, satisfied, and settled back down into her chair. "Dismissed."

Stephanie turned automatically, hardly able to believe her luck. One night was nothing compared to many of the other punishments Devenire was rumored to routinely give out. As for the professor's knowledge of her ambient powers, well...

"And Miss Quigley?"

Stephanie froze, her hand still on the doorknob.

"To miss tomorrow night's make-up session—it would not be possible to interpret that as unintentional. That would be seen as defiance, and punished accordingly."

Stephanie released the breath she'd unconsciously been holding. "Yes ma'am."

Jelly and Élise were waiting just outside the Transfiguration classroom when Stephanie practically flew out the doors. "Everything all right?" Jelly asked.

Stephanie offered a noncommittal shrug. "Hey, you guys, I need an op."

"We've been telling you to get a lobotomy for years." Jelly was ready for the textbook that came flying at her in response. "What do you need?"

"You know Tam Kennedy, right? That obnoxious fire elemental from Ancient Runes class?"

"Ooh, good choice," Élise tossed her silken red bangs out of her eyes. "This your first bad boy, Steph?"

"Okay, first of all, please shut up. And secondly, I didn't choose him. He just sort of... showed up." Stephanie collected her book back from Jelly, who was watching her entirely too closely for Stephanie's comfort.

Élise was watching her in an entirely different way. "Mmhm. Where exactly did he just sort of show up? The bathroom or-"

"Élise, when I told you to shut up, I was very, very serious."

**I mean, why do we need men anyway? Sure, they're useful for procreation and the continuing existence of the human race— not to mention the magical one— but really, there has to be some other way to get the job done.**

"So let me get this straight," Jelly said, lowering her voice only slightly. "You will not be satisfied with the usual run-around of Kennedy's friends, his classmates, his exs, his siblings if he has any, and occasionally, his teachers. You have to have the official written edition of his life from the headmaster himself," she pointed over her shoulder at the office doors they'd just passed, "even though the information in it is usually not nearly so interesting as the rumors suggest. And why do you need this exactly?"

Stephanie hesitated for a fraction of a second. "If you really must know..." she fidgeted with her bag.

"I must," Jelly offered her friend a sideways smile, which went unreturned.

"I think I hallucinated about him, okay?" Stephanie took a few quick steps to put herself in front of Jelly's sharp gaze. "I just... I want to know what's going on."

There was a longer pause this time. The only sounds were the sharp thwacks of their boots against the stone floor and the soft panting that came naturally with the fast pace Stephanie was setting. Finally, Élise spoke.

"I take it you want this soon, then?"

"Yes," Stephanie said. "Before tonight, if possible."

"Before tonight will be tricky," Élise mused. "We'll have to move fast."

"I know, and I'm sorry for the short notice, but-"

"I didn't say that moving fast bothered me," Élise cut in. "I don't have anything better to be- hey, it's Keid Black! Keid!"

"Who the hel- _helk_ is Cade Black?" Stephanie whispered to Jelly.

"You're really serious about the whole giving-up-swearing thing?" Jelly leaned against the wall, still watching Élise.

"I'm trying to be," Stephanie rested her elbow against the wall as well so she could lean her head against her hand.

"Frankly, I think it's a waste of your time." Jelly cringed as Élise slid up against a decently good looking, black haired boy who was probably about the same age they were. "He must be one of her ex-dates," she added as Élise whispered something inaudible in Keid's ear.

Élise started to turn away, smiling widely, but left her foot right in the path of Keid's steps. For a moment, their legs tangled as they both struggled to separate, then Élise's hand on his shoulder helped him tumble to the ground. He somehow managed to salvage his fall with a sort of ninja-like roll that would have been really impressive if he hadn't stood up right against the giant, intricately carved door to the Headmaster's office.

Instantly, he was hit from three sides by Stunners, and a giant stone bird swept down from the top of the door to claw at his head. Wooden vines lashed out from the door and wound around his body, holding him to the wood. Élise watched the entire show critically, her hands on her hips as she studied the spell reactions. After a moment, when she was satisfied that nothing further would happen, she turned and jogged over to where Stephanie and Jelly were still leaning on the wall.

"The stone bird is a new gig," she announced. "Roth centered all of his protection around it."

"Yeah, did you notice its eyes? They darkened when Black set off the spells, so I think their glow indicates when all the security is in place," Jelly said, starting down the hall. "Um, Élise? Isn't your ex going to be upset that you threw him into the door?"

Élise barely glanced back. "Keid? Nah, he's cool. He'll think it's funny." She paused for a moment. "Well, when he wakes up, anyway. Besides, we're in a prank war. Getting thrown into doors is part of the fun of it."

"Since when have you been in a prank war?" Jelly demanded.

Élise quickened her pace. "Well, um, it started about a minute ago, actually."

Stephanie had to jog to keep up with Élise's steps. "Remind me not to sit next to you at breakfast, okay?"

"Let's focus on tonight first," Élise rounded the corner at the end of the hall, heading towards the Apparition points, the only places students could use to get in and out of Fireflame Academy. "Not much else has changed, but we'll have to be careful about the runic protection barriers. Aren't you two studying those in some class or another?"

Stephanie and Jelly exchanged quick glances behind her back. "Well," Jelly finally answered diplomatically, "I wouldn't say _studying_ exactly..."

**Okay, you were right about the Ancient Runes, by the way. But that doesn't mean I was wrong. A protection barrier came up in my escapades today, and because I don't know a thing about them, I have to actually start reading the stupid Ancient Runes textbook. I stand by my previous statement, however: ancient runes are not particularly effective as a protection barrier, either, because I just read how to erase it in my basic school textbook. Some protection.**

"Stephanie, are you coming or what?" Élise was checking out the way her new black jeans settled on her bum in the mirror.

"If you're having second thoughts, we don't have to do this," Jelly glanced at the paper Stephanie was bent over, "I mean, if you're tired…"

"Ha ha ha, very funny," Stephanie folded up the paper and slid it into her desk drawer. "I'm _good_, Jelly. Ready?"

The three of them were dressed in dark colors- jeans, dark sweatshirts, and gloves- all of it solid, plain, designed not to attract attention. Élise had even gone to the trouble of tucking her conspicuous hair under a hat. None of their efforts were useful in the dorm building, though- Stephanie suspected the desk lady would have seen them even if they'd been hiding under Invisibility Cloaks.

"It's almost curfew," she grunted at them as Jelly held open the door for the other two.

"We'll only be out for a minute," Élise smiled winningly.

The desk lady made another grunting noise at them, but didn't bother to try to stop them. They made sure they were safely out of her eyeline before Apparating into the school's entrance hall. It was dark and shadowy without the solar power to light the rooms, but the walls still resonated with the day's heat.

**The important thing about working in a team is to play to each other's strengths and cover each other's weaknesses. For example, I'm just the slightest bit clumsy, but when we're working together, I know Jelly always has my back, while Élise is taking care of the front.**

"Rock," Jelly spoke in an undertone, automatically reaching out to steady Stephanie as her foot caught on the top edge of a small stone protruding from the floor.

Stephanie nodded her thanks and muttered a quick spell to crush it to dust.

"You guys are _loud_," Élise leaned her head around the corner of the hallway head. "I can't sense any night guards here, but my mind reading isn't foolproof."

"I thought you could penetrate _everyone_'s thoughts—"

"That's assuming the night guards are _thinking_," Élise whispered back. "Come on, we're clear."

They slid around the corner one by one, and softly padded up the staircase at the end of the hall. Élise paused for a moment at the top before nodding again and, wand out in front of her, jogged across the passageway to stand in front of the ornate door that marked the Headmaster's office.

**The only other essential part of teamwork is timing. The benefit of solo work is total control over when everything happens. When in a team, you have to operate like you're all combining into one solo action. It has to be **_**seamless**_**.**

"Ready?" Jelly whispered. "Okay, here's how the count, one more time: my whistle on one, Élise's spellwork on two, Stephanie— password on three, I'm done working the runes by four and five, and Élise get the door at six. If Élise stumbles, Stephanie, you have until nine to catch the door before the spells wear off. We've got one shot at this tonight, don't screw it up. Are we good?"

At the others' nods, she put both fingers in her mouth and whistled a special key that disarmed the magical lock. _One_.

Élise's wand darted through a dancing pattern, her lips moving silently as she cast a series of spells to suppress the traditional magical barriers. _Two_.

"Archaniatius," Stephanie said clearly. _Three_.

Jelly looked up from the runes she'd sketched on her the ground with her wand. _Four. _She softly murmured a few foreign words, the melody of the sounds barely audible even in the silent corridor. _Five_.

Élise reached for the door, practically falling on to the wood in her rush.

Jelly lunged forward and grabbed her around the waist, spinning her around so she shoved Stephanie instead. _Six_. Stephanie stumbled backwards, almost hitting the door. "The password didn't work," Jelly said shortly. _Seven._

"He changed it?" Élise stared at the giant bird on top of the door. Its eyes glowed eerily in the half-light. _Eight_. "Roth's such a…" she hesitated.

"A pigheaded obnoxious frog-loving $$hole," Stephanie provided. Immediately, the bird's eyes stopped glowing. They stared at it for a second before Jelly recovered her senses and pushed the door open. _Nine_.

**Of course, sometimes all the teamwork and planning in the world comes to nothing and it turns out you're really just relying on dumb luck.**

"You cussed!" Jelly strode into the office triumphantly. Stephanie made a face at her back as she slid in after, Élise shutting the door behind them both.

The headmaster had taken one of the few above-ground rooms at Fireflame for his office, and the back wall was nearly translucent, formed from layers of spells to keep out sand, bugs, and intruders. The spells let in more than enough light so they could work easily.

"Five minutes before the guards return," Élise cut in, moving towards the giant mahogany desk in the center of the room.

Stephanie reached for the top drawer of the desk. A scroll of parchment jammed on the top fell out as she opened it. Stephanie stuffed it into her pocket as she reached past it with the other hand, her eyes darting over the names on the upper right corners of the folders. _Croft, Ethan. Black, Keid. Parker, Selene. Croft, Pepper. Gersany, Leo._

"Four minutes."

Stephanie shoved the drawer closed so she could yank open the one beneath it. Roth had no sense of organization that she could figure out. _Warrington… Malfoy_…_ Parkinson… Nott…_

"Three minutes."

"Here's Kennedy's file," Jelly handed a fairly thick file folder to Élise. "The memories are inside as well."

"No one else?" Élise asked, her wand already darting over the file as she formed an identical copy on the desk below.

As Jelly opened her mouth to reply, a male voice from just outisde the door filled in the silence. "What the- who's in there?"

"_Colloportus_!" Jelly whipped out her wand and pointed it at the door. It slammed shut, but moments later it started rattling as the guard tried to force it open.

"Damn," Élise whispered, ripping out the back of the original file and piling it on top the copy she was still partway through creating. Pointing her wand at the pile, she muttered, "_Evanesco_," and they disappeared.

"To the dorm?" Stephanie asked, shoving what remained of the file back where Jelly had found it.

"Quiet," Jelly pointed to the door, which was shaking with increasing force. "Not soundproof." She paused for a moment, glancing around contemplatively, her expression unchanged by the impending threat of discovery.

"The window," Stephanie said. She approached the flickering blue wall of light. Just being close to such an intensely concentrated amount of power made her fingertips tingle. She kicked her foot forward and it collided with a painfully solid, invisible blast that sent her stumbling backwards into Jelly.

"We can take him," Élise pointed her wand at the door.

"No, we can't." Stephanie gingerly shifted her weight back to both feet. Her whole right side ached and stung every time she stepped on her right foot, but she ignored it, wobbling back over to the window.

Jelly put a hand on her shoulder. "It's not worth it." Stephanie shrugged her off and switched her wand to her left hand. She extended her free fingers towards the wall, and dancing blue lightning immediately clustered under her palm.

"Don't—" Jelly began just as Stephanie pushed her hand through the blue streaks of light. A static electricity shock shot up her fingers and she jerked back. The blue streaks were gone.

"_Incendio! Reducto!_" a powerful voice thundered from outside, and the door exploded in a blast of force and flame. Stephanie instinctively dropped to the ground behind Élise, who was muttering a quick Shielding Spell under her breath.

"Get up," Jelly's voice was rough and low in Stephanie's ear, and she felt herself being lifted by the arm as Jelly hauled her through the gaping wall.

There was a moment when her head was lighter than the rest of her body, and her stomach seemed to be unaffected by the gravity hurtling past her ears. Then there was solid _thump_ that Stephanie realized belatedly was her own body colliding with the sandy ground six feet below the window. An electric sizzle cracked dangerously close and she opened her eyes just in time to see blue lightning dart over the windows again as the protection spells were revived.

"All right?" Jelly said breathlessly.

"Never doing that again," Élise spat a mouthful of sand at Stephanie's feet.

"Hey! Stop right there. Don't move, I said _don't move_!"

Stephanie glanced disinterestedly up at the now trapped guard in Roth's office. She struggled to her feet, far more interested in testing how her injured foot held up her weight.

"Stop!" the guard repeated uselessly as the three girls Dis-Apparated one by one.

**My adrenaline rush is just wearing off now, so I can sit still long enough to finish this letter.**

**I'm still occasionally spouting fire out of my fingers, which can be inconvenient but is by far not the worst thing that's ever happened to me. The really annoying thing is that I keep having these really awful dreams so I wake up feeling like I never went to sleep, and I'm now absolutely exhausted. I think I'm going to go crash in bed and read until I fall asleep, which feels like it might be about five seconds.**

**G'night!**

**~Stephanie**

Stephanie added an extra flourish to the end of her name, folded up her letter, and tucked Tam Kennedy's file under her arm.

"I'm going up to bed," she announced unnecessarily.

Élise glanced up from lacing her knee-high boots. "I'm going for a drink. You want anything?"

"Just my pillow," Stephanie fluttered her fingers over her shoulder.

"Happy dreams!" Jelly poked her head out from the closet, her long flannel T-shirt hanging almost to the bottom of her cookie-patterned pajama shorts.

Stephanie shut the bedroom door behind her and flopped back on her bed, spreading open Kennedy's manila folder on her knees.

KENNEDY, TAM

_Pureblood_

_Fire elemental_

Parents: Elena and Simon Kennedy

Siblings: Alan Kennedy—killed in fire at age seventeen. The fire was reported as an accident, an unfortunate combination of a wine cupboard and a cigarette, but later evidence indicated it may have been an early loss of control over Tam's elemental powers. Tam was eleven at the time, which would correlate with common patterns in the growth of elementals. Believed to have been involved in intimate relations with Alan, the only other witness survived third degree burns from the fire (see Black, Jessa). Tam and his parents escaped unharmed but the damage to the house rendered it past salvage...

* * *

**Dear Stephanie,**

**I'm going to make a wild guess and say that you started the fire and that it was 'an accident'... How did you possibly set your dorm room on fire? I just reread what I wrote and it made me chuckle. I think I've come to know you too well. I'm not really sure if that's a good thing or not. As long as you don't ask me to be part of your 'seamless' team. It seems to me that the one time you have to rely on luck is one time too many. I think you must have been cursed at birth to always attract trouble. Hey! Maybe that's what your ambient magic is. You drain all the unlucky, trouble magic from your surroundings. All right, that made little sense. That reminds me, have you gotten any closer to understanding what godforsaken magic you were cursed with? Why are you nervous about someone discovering this strange ambient magic thing? I think you should definitely learn to control your magic. There is no logical reason for wanting to have haywire powers. **

**Professor Schteinblick, my battle teacher, spends five minutes every day, lecturing us about the importance of a team. He's a vicious piece of moldy cheese, but I have to admit he's a pretty good teacher. He's also paranoid and yells. Like I said, he's a vicious piece of moldy cheese. If he read this, he'd probably start lecturing me about the importance of knowing who I'm writing to. Then he'd grab my pen and start lecturing you about your friends and how suspicious they're acting.**

**I have to say I absolutely agree with your belief about boys. However, to save you from the boredom of the essay I can write about them, I'm going to move on. Now that I think about it, Charlie's a very nice person and he is of the male specimen. I think I'd die if the world consisted of only girls. I suppose the idiocy of boys balances out with that of girls. Right, moving on.**

**I'm pretty grumpy right now, sorry about that. I've had a tiring evening. I've been assigned a partner, the same **_**boy**_** I had last week (an oxygen waster), for a new project, which basically consists of us developing a certain part of our magic with the help of someone else. Unfortunately, my partner is 'too busy' for us to meet and work together. He's probably off making out with his latest girlfriend, Katrice Kelms. She's a sweet girl and a werewolf. I hope when the full moon comes, she eats him. All right, that was a bit mean.**

**Anyway, I decided to drag Charlie to the local Quidditch pitch, which is partially owned by my school and start working on my Animagen magic. We weren't supposed to be in the Quidditch pitch because of our curfew and neither of us plays Quidditch. Basically, it was catastrophic.**

Imilia trotted around the Quidditch pitch in her small black cat form. With surprising agility she leaped up several rows of seats and finally sat down to lick her paw.

"Imilia?" Charlie was nervously playing with his wand. "Can we go back to our rooms now?"

Her luminous silver eyes turned to look at him, but she only meowed in response.

Charlie sat down on the bleachers across from Imilia, then quickly changed his mind as dew soaked through his pants, "We've been out here long enough! Someone's going to find us soon."

Imilia scampered down the rows of bleachers and began sprinting across the pitch, her gait evenly balanced. There was a moment of what appeared to be struggle as Imilia grew clumsy and began ziggzagging. Charlie's breath caught in his throat and he stood up, watching her closely. Then suddenly, Imilia slowed down and crouched low to the floor. The black cat stumbled around momentarily, then regaining some control it darted under the nearby bleachers, only to come out chasing a mouse.

"Unbelievable..." Charlie groaned. Imilia had once again lost control of her animagus form. She really would never learn. "Next time you'll do what your professor tells you and you'll ask Black to monitor your 'success' and 'development'."

Charlie gripped his wand tightly and tried to aim for the crazy cat. Imilia, who had finally managed to corner her prey and was rolling it about with her paws, suddenly startled.

A red beam of light shot from a side door and the black cat's body went flying. It crumpled to the ground.

Charlie pointed his wand out in front of him, fear suddenly gripping him. "Who's there?"

The black cat's form shimmered once more and began lengthening out. Imilia's unconscious form appeared, and there was an anxious pause as Charlie debated whether to run to Imilia or stand his ground.

Keid Black slipped out of the shadows and neared Charlie. "Evening."

Charlie didn't lower his wand. "What did you do to her?"

"Stunned her. Don't worry, Karson, I could've done worse if I'd wanted to." He strutted closer. Charlie flicked his wand in Imilia's direction; she immediately sat up, her eyes darting haphazardly.

**Absolutely catastrophic. I'm pathetic. You wouldn't happen to know a potion that can make me super powerful and all-knowing, would you? It would save me a lot of time.**

"Imilia?" Charlie approached her cautiously.

She took a deep breath as though to clear her head. "What happened?" Then she seemed to notice Keid for the first time. "Black? You stunned me!"

**Although, I've realized, after being stunned countless times, there is a very strange difference between the recuperation process as an animal and a person. In an animagus form, you are immediately transformed back into a person and it takes about five minutes to get a terrible headache. However, as a person, you immediately have a headache after waking up. I wonder why there's a difference... **

Imilia stood up shakily.

"You're both idiots." Keid smirked. "Especially you, squib."

Imilia angrily marched toward Keid. "Shut your mouth, Black."

Keid laughed. "I told you, you wouldn't be able to control your forms."

"I was in complete control," Imilia answered stiffly.

Charlie stood defiantly by his friend. "Why are you even here?"

"I happened to be walking by." Keid sneered. "Why do you think I'm here, you barstool? We're supposed to be working on this project together. Besides, without me, you'd be spending your next week trying to find a wild cat. A little bit of groveling is in order."

Imilia swallowed back an insult. "Yes Black, we're supposed to be working on this project together. You haven't had the time to help me all week." She took a deep breath and turned to Charlie, "Sorry about the trouble, Charlie."

Keid rolled his eyes, "God, you're pitiful. I can't believe I wasted five perfectly good minutes saving your life." He stood up. "Next time, think your plan over. See you later, squib." He stuck his hands in his pockets and made to walk off.

"Stop. Calling. Me. That."

He stopped, perfectly poised, and turned around with a friendly grin. "Make me."

Imilia's hands curled around an invisible source of power. She felt veins of liquid run up through her arms, curling around her neck, and into her startlingly bright silver eyes. Her lips parted gently.

"Imilia…" Charlie warned.

Keid took a step forward; he was itching for a fight. "You're a good-for-nothing squib. You're worthless. No one cares about you."

"Imilia." Charlie's voice grew louder.

Imilia's head tilted slightly. Her eyes were entranced by the thick veins on Keid's neck. She could almost hear the water pounding in his body. It was so simple just to close her hands on that power. Just a little bit of patience and she could control him.

Her eyes traced the veins to his perfectly calm face. She startled. Her elemental water pulled itself from her body, leaving her strangely dizzy. Keid wasn't angry. Not even a little bit. A strangely innocent smile adorned his calm features.

**It was a ridiculous decision on my part and I really shouldn't have asked Charlie to help.**

Then suddenly they heard a screeching voice as an old, stout woman jogged across the pitch. "Hooligans! Criminals!"

Professor Bezilca, one of the Transfiguration teachers, stopped menacingly beside them. "Mr. Black, Ms. Imilia," Bezilca grew astonished, "Mr. Karson?"

She composed herself, "Not only are you three out of bed after curfew, but only Quidditch players and a select few are allowed out here." She turned to Charlie, "My dear, I would have expected better of you."

Charlie squeaked out a reply, "Professor, we can explain!"

Bezilca sighed, "Mr. Karson, I'm sorry to say I have to give you two weeks of detention. Now run along back to your dormitory. I need a word with your classmates."

Charlie looked desperately at Imilia who gave him a stiff smile. With a sigh, he set off down the usual path that led to town and eventually to the student apartments.

Professor Bezilca turned on Imilia and Keid. "How dare you disobey the rules? And how dare you drag along an innocent student? I'm assigning both of you three weeks of detention! Now get back to sleep."

**I'll save you from the details. Basically, my amazing *cough* partner showed up to lecture me. Then we were caught and given a load of detention. Thankfully Charlie got off with a lighter sentence because the teacher who found us favors him. At that point, all I wanted to do was get back to the dorms and make myself some steaming tea.**

Imilia slung her rug sack onto her shoulders and set off as quickly as she could. Keid evenly fell into step with her. She laughed to herself; Bezilca was a crazy old lady. Imilia glanced at Keid's still calm features.

"Why do you insist on being annoying?" she muttered, almost to herself.

Keid shrugged, "It's a good way to pass the time."

There was a tense silence as they continued along the city street. Imilia licked her lips nervously. Could she really have controlled his body? Could she really have killed him? It made her shiver in fear.

After a few minutes, Keid spoke up again. "Well, this is where I leave you."

Imilia frowned. They still had a good five minute walk until the closest dorm building. "Where are you going?"

He laughed. "You didn't really believe I was coming to help my partner out, did you?" Keid snorted. "I only stayed because you were amusing me. Anyway, unlike you I've got places to be and people to see. See you tomorrow, sq-" He paused and smiled. Then he turned around and walked off down another street.

Imilia swore at his retreating form.

**Look, I don't know how to say this nicely. You have to train your powers. Without control you could kill yourself and everyone around you. Like I said before, you'd have to be an idiot to not want to understand what your magic is. I'm sorry if what I said was insulting. I lost control of my magic several times today and I could have caused some serious damage. I'm still a bit shook up.**

**I also got lectured, yesterday night, by my dorm mates about the amount of space I use. Normally there are only four people to a dorm room, but they added me in as an extra. I have one bloody sofa to myself and a table. HOW AM I USING UP A LOT OF SPACE? Sorry, I shouldn't be taking my anger out on you. But anyway, It's not my fault that I have a lot of homework to finish and I'd rather not have to leave my own dorm room, so that my dorm mates can have a party. Hopefully if I stay out of their way for a couple days, their anger will cool.**

**Then today, my detentions started. Charlie was removed from the punishment because of his 'participation in class.' My transfiguration teacher knows no boundaries in her favoritism. I suppose he didn't deserve the detentions. That leaves my lovely and encouraging *coughjerkcough* partner and me to "classify, sort, and label" a thousand billion letters. Have I not suffered enough?**

Imilia sighed dejectedly as her eyes trailed over two gigantic pile of letters. Keid was sitting silently by her side, eyeing his pile. Professor Bezilca's knobbly fingers wrapped around her wand and she shot a spell at the door.

"Darlings, I've set a charm on the clock," her voice was frayed with age and squeaky. It grated terribly on Imilia's nerves. "When the clock chimes midnight, the door will burst open. And dearies, you'll find your wands in a brown envelop box."

With a last frown at the two of them, she attempted to straighten her frizzy grey hair and left as quickly as her hobbling feet could go.

Briskly, Keid pulled out another wand from his pocket and shot several spells at the letters. In the space of a second, the letters in his pile were placed in an envelope, stamped, and addressed.

Imilia's features only distorted in shock momentarily. She knew Keid didin't follow regular rules, but she obviously hadn't known the extent of it before.

**I need to get myself a second wand. It would be very handy, especially since everyone is only supposed to have one. They're ridiculously practical, not that I would know. I mean, think about it. If an enemy summons your wand, you just bring out your spare! I'm sure Professor Schteinblick would agree. In fact, I bet he owns three extras!**

Keid pulled out a copy of a magazine and flipped it open. "Have fun doing your half."

Imilia sighed angrily; this would definitely be a long evening.

After about twenty minutes of silence, Keid put his magazine down on the desk. "How curious."

Imilia, who was nursing a paper cut, glared at him, "What?"

"I was simply pondering when you would ask me."

"Ask you what?" Imilia muttered.

"To help you finish your work."

"I don't need your help."

"Uh huh…"

Imilia angrily printed another address on to the envelope. "I'd rather finish this myself than ask for your help."

"You're stubborn."

Imilia looked firmly at him. "Besides, you wouldn't help me until I'd groveled for you and done something embarrassing."

Keid laughed, "You're right."

Imilia gingerly pulled another letter from the pile and started the tiring process all over again.

A few moments passed in silence. "Boy, am I thirsty!" He eyed Imilia.

"Too bad." Imilia didn't even look up.

"I seem to remember you control water."

Imilia glared at him, "Oh, so I'm not a squib now?"

Keid shrugged, "That depends. The Official Family Records imply that you are."

**Do you have any idea how official the Official Family Records are? Could I trust them?**

"I don't have a family." Imilia's face had hardened. "Hold out your hand."

She placed her hand above his and pulled out the water in the air around them. An invisible bowl tipped over his head, sending water streaming down onto his head, ruining his perfectly styled hair. "There you go."

The water on his skin rose up in steam. "You're very difficult."

Imilia glared at him. They had always been in the same Miscellaneous Magic class; however he seemed to control his temper and his fire element much better than she did. "What do you know about my 'family records'?" Imilia couldn't believe she was asking Keid, but despite herself, she was curious.

Keid chuckled, "Oh, a few interesting details." He leaned towards her, "For example, Imilia, do you that your family has been completely destroyed? Your brother, Draco Malfoy was killed during the Second War." He paused. "Your extended family isn't listed anywhere. Your parents have probably rotted away in prison. The most interesting thing is that… you're dead too, but were killed long before the Second War."

He placed his hand gently on her cheek, "And yet, you don't feel like a ghost."

Imilia smacked his hand away. "Is this a joke?"

"Nope." Keid smiled winningly. "The records say you died shortly after your fifth birthday, which also happens to be the same date you were abandoned to this place."

Imilia stood up straighter, her face white and emotionless.

"My theory," Keid relaxed back into his seat, "is that no one wanted to be burdened with a squib, so they pretended you died. What I don't understand is why they didn't just kill you." His face showed only curiosity.

**Boys don't know when to be quiet and throw themselves off a cliff. At least, my partner doesn't.**

"How do you know th-that?" Imilia's voice broke.

Keid shrugged, "It's my job, let's say, to research information on certain people. I've been told I'm quite good at it."

Imilia bit down firmly and tried to swallow her tears. "My family killed me?"

Despite herself, large tears began rolling down her cheeks and on to her chin. They curled down her neck and splattered onto shirt. But Imilia's emotionless features never changed. She straightened up and never let her eyes drift from Keid's.

Keid's narrowed eyes followed her tears momentarily then he turned around quickly and cast the same spell on the other half of the letters. They classified themselves quickly. "Well, no need to thank me."

Imilia's clenched her jaw. "Thank you."

The tears dripping down her cheeks slowed then froze. Imilia gently wiped away the frozen tears and let them drop to the ground. "Next time, Black, keep your nose out of my business."

She opened her cloth bag and pulled out her half-finished letter.

Keid snorted and muttered quietly, "Not like I have a choice."

**I just want to sleep for a week or two. Is that too much to ask?**

**My full name is Imilia. I suppose that sounds strange to you, but it doesn't to me, at least not anymore. Until I was five, my full name was Imilia Alexandria Malfoy. During the Second War, the Malfoys were purebloods. To them, a person's magic is more important than who they are. Black, my 'partner', told me today that according to some prissy pureblood records, I'm dead. I suspect that they thought the best way to keep their honor was by staging my death. I've heard of quite a few families who did this during the war. Anyway, they sent me far away from England.**

**I don't know what to think of Black anymore, but I've been growing suspicious. Professor Schteinblick must be getting to me. He only started messing with me this year and he's constantly hinting about some outside work and meetings. He openly admitted to me today that he was researching me. And now, he's told me that according to the records I'm dead. If that isn't suspicious, I don't know what is.**

**Okay, maybe I'm overreacting. The school I attend is known for its dubious experiments and teaching departments that concern the Dark Arts. After the Second War, most schools have banned dark magic. I shouldn't be so suspicious about Black. He's too stupid to be involved in anything illegal.**

**Sorry about my ramble. I hope you're having a better week than I am.**

**Cheers,**

**Imilia.**

* * *

Professor Vicven sat pensively, his long legs propped up on his desk. Around him, there were piles of newspapers, spread out in what looked like no particular order. Vicven, however, seemed to know exactly how they were sorted.

Vicven set his feet down with a sigh as he frowned. "What am ah missin'? What ah they plannin' to do next?" Strangely enough, his accent was clearer, different.

The man shot a glance at the closest pile of newspapers, all from the last twenty years. He tipped them over and watched the newspapers slide down. Disappointed that an answer hadn't just hit him, Vicven read the all-too-familiar headlines again.

_He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named Returns?_

_Prime Minister Reveals Nothing_

_Corruption in our Government?_

_Harry Potter: Hero or Lunatic?_

_He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named Has Returned!_

_The Second War Begins_

_Harry Potter Sacrifices His Family_

_Hogwart Falls!_

_Voldermort Defeated_

_Second War Finally Over_

_Death Eaters Escape in Self-Imposed Exile_

_Government Recovers_

_Potter and Pals Disappear_

_Signs of Death Eater Activity_

Vicven turned away from the newspapers and jotted something down in a small red notebook. He picked up the last newspaper titled _Signs of Death Eater Activity_ and slowly flipped through it. Vicven let out another long sigh before mumbling, "What is their plan? They've been invading Egypt... searching through old Chinese relics... kidnapping students? It just doesn't make sense. What happened to extinguishing the Muggleborn race?"

The man anxiously rubbed his left forearm, as though it would help him understand the Death Eater's new approach.

There was a sudden burst of footsteps and Vicven jumped up, while swinging his wand around. Immediately, all the newspapers disappeared. Professor Vicven calmly sat down as though nothing had happened as his first few students entered the room.

"Gud afterrrnun, Childrrren! We will begin zoon, so pleaze zettle down."


End file.
